


Sailing the digital sea

by SmiLego



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fantasy, Slice of Life, young chloe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 104,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22506622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmiLego/pseuds/SmiLego
Summary: "Max who? Never heard the name... My best friend you say? This honor is reserved for only one person. And that's Bongo!"
Kudos: 8





	1. Looking for a rat catcher

**Author's Note:**

> Story written in Chloe Price's first person point of view.

In a sea of broken glass, a particular piece is reflecting shades of blue. It slides into the bag with a soft clicking sound.

  


* * *

  


In the words of the famous Jane Austen: it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a girl with no friends, in possession of a good mind, must be in want of a cat. At least I thought she wrote it this way. I wasn't sure, I hadn't read the novel myself, I only saw the movie with my parents once.

Anyway, the important part here was that anyone that didn't know me would have suggested getting a dog instead. They would have presented the reasons as to why as follows: because it is Man's best friend, a dog would love me unconditionally, be loyal to a fault and follow me to the end of the world.

The thing they didn't realize was that if I needed any of that I would have gone out to any sandbox and found a friend or two. But that wasn't what I wanted. No, no. I wanted to keep my independence, I had things to do so I couldn't be followed around all day long and be interrupted every step of the way. I was a fervent believer that loyalty isn't a given, it should be earned and questioned when needed. So many good plastic soldiers had died because they were loyal to a fault and never reconsidered an order that had been given. Everyone should know by now that unconditional love only exists in fairy tales. As the documentary I was watching the previous night with Dad said, this supposed unconditional love had been beaten into dogs since their young age and into their parents and into their parents' parents before that. This is not a natural behavior, this is not real love but an addiction to them. A dog is only Man's best friend because it has been chosen for him. Man saw a wolf one day and thought to himself that he wanted it as a pet so he conditioned it and bred their dependency to humankind into them. If a dog was given the choice, it would have chosen to lead its own pack away from humans.

What I wanted was a friend that had its own life, that didn't depend on my every whim to do anything in their life, someone that could manage things on their own, feed themselves if needed, someone that if they chose to love me, would do so of their own free will. What I really needed was a cat.

Dad would surely understand, right? He was a smart guy when he wanted to be, he would catch on quickly but there was still a problem. The last time five-year old me had tried to use what Dad called "big words" in a conversation with him, he had looked at me like I was an alien from Mars and that I was about to disintegrate him with my blaster or something. So I had to use simpler words to get my point across.

We were walking down an unfamiliar street, hand in hand, but I wasn't afraid because Dad was with me. I always felt comfortable going anywhere when he was nearby. It was one of his super powers. Always making me feel safe. My plan was clear in my mind. All that was left to do was presenting it to him then I would get what I wanted.

"Hey."

My attempt at engaging him in a conversation fell on deaf ears. A beautiful car was waiting at the red light we were standing next to, with orange flames on a flashy yellow paint job. It was a muscle car like the one Dad had in his picture album. Its engine was popping out of the hood, unlike the one he was currently working on in the garage back at home. He started to teach me how to distinguish the muscle cars that are good from the import cars that are mostly made of plastics and are bad.

I had to make him stop daydreaming. Squeezing his hand tighter made him look at me. That was the first step, now I had to keep his attention. Playing with a handful of my long strawberry blond hair while feigning looking away from him did the trick.

"Yes, Chloe?"  
"Dogs are hairy."  
"They sure are, kiddo."

With a gigantic boom, the muscle car was speeding away. But that distraction was replaced by another one. He was waving at a passer-by that I didn't recognize. I tried really hard to cast my mental grappling on his chin to make him look down and it worked. His attention was back on me, I moved forward with my explanation.

"Dogs smell bad. When they are wet they smell worse."

I had a sentence prepared next but I lost my trail of thought as soon as I looked up. He had his trademark smile on his face. Not the condescending smile I see him wear when he is talking with our teenage neighbor but the big smile reaching all the way to his ears. It was such a contagious thing, I couldn't help but feel joy every time I saw it. He was definitely waiting for me to go on. I concentrated really hard to get back to where I was and reformulated my next sentence.

"When dogs bark, they are loud. Dogs bark at night for no reason and they wake people up."

We crossed the street and continued on our way but he was still paying attention.

"I know, kiddo. That's why I explained the importance of good training practices. We have to teach them to stay quiet…"

It sounded like he was going into lecture mode. He could go on and on for a while, I had to cut him off now or else there would be no stopping him before we arrived at the destination.

"Dogs can get rabbits then you can die if they bite you."

I had to use a big word here but I hadn't found any other way to dumb it down. It would surely work and stop him in his tracks. Success! His smile had disappeared and he was now sporting a concerned expression.

"Rabbits? You mean rabies?"

The roaring of the cars around us must have confused him.

"That's what I said."

Now that I was done explaining why the dog option was a bad one, I needed to present the other option.

"Cats are nice. Cats are soft, like pillows. Cats purr when they are happy. Cats don't need to be walked outside every day. Cats won't try to eat Mum 'cause she smells like food. We should get a cat instead."

Mum was working at the Two Whales Diner, she wasn't spending all her time in the kitchen but she still brought the smell of work at home. She always smelled delicious.

Dad was laughing now. Apparently my attempt had failed, it was so ridiculous that it was laughable. I had to rethink my whole plan. Faking being ill near the dog was one solution, Allergies they called it. That would make them reconsider getting one. But my worries were in vain as he was wearing his contagious smile once more.

"You win, kiddo. We won't be getting a dog."  
"Yes!"

I was over the moon. No more dog to worry about. I knew I would prevail. Dad was throwing his arms to the sky before expressing a complaint.

"But how am I going to train a cat to bring me my newspaper?"  
"I don't know…"

I had never trained a dog to fetch things for me so I had no idea how to do that with a cat either.

"You're smart, Dad. You'll figure it out."

Now Dad was looking at me with a smirk on his face.

"I'll figure it out… figure it out. That's a complex expression for a five year old."  
"Well, I'm smart too!"

I grinded my teeth, shrugged my shoulder and looked away. Dad should have known better than to underestimate my intelligence. I recognized the letter on the facade of the building we were walking towards.

"Oh look, Dad! We are almost there!"

I ran ahead. My parents hated when I ran around like that outside of specific areas, like our backyard or the park, but since we were very close Dad wouldn't mind it too much this time. It wasn't like he couldn't catch up with me in two or three stride with those overly long legs of his. The thumping of his boots was clearly following me.

"Yes, we are, and yes you are! Wait for me, Chloe."

As expected he was back by my side in no time.

The "Fur Café" was the newest business in Arcadia Bay, owned by two young couples freshly arrived from Portland. They had been frequenting the Two Whales since they arrived in town and Mum said they couldn't stop speaking about their business. They'd had a clever idea: people love their coffee and they love their pets too. Why not offer them a place where they could get the first while finding playmates for their loved ones.

They'd set up shop in an old house that had a vast garden, they'd sold coffee at the front desk and then people would just sit on the many chairs scattered all around the garden. In case one didn't already have any pets, they could purchase them in the back of the shop.

I didn't care much about coffee, the smell irritated my nose and Mum never let me try it anyway. "It's for grown-ups only" she would always remind me. But on this day, we weren't here for the coffee but to acquire a new pet.

It might have been a newly opened business but it was already a hit. The doorbell was barely audible over the flood of barks and people's chatter. There were too many dogs for my taste, it was overwhelming so I had to find somewhere to hide for now. I took protection behind Dad's legs.

Dad's voice was still distinguishable from the ambient noise.

"Come now, Chloe. I know there are a lot of people but you don't have any reason to be afraid."

Despite Dad's reassurance, the environment didn't feel safe so I stayed put, my back against the door, in case an immediate retreat was in order. The enormous black Doberman on my left, near the pink Mohawk lady, was eyeing me wrong. This dog hadn't been fed in a while. I bet he wanted me as his next snack. Dad turned around, knelt and smoothly patted me on the head.

"If you prefer we can go to the other pet store we talked about, the one in Portland. But the car is in the shop so we will have to wait until next weekend."

If we didn't get a cat today, Dad would have surely talked about it with Mum again and she would have persuaded him back to get a dog. I couldn't let that happen.

"It's okay, Daddy. I'm not afraid."

I tried to take a deep breath but it got stuck midway into my throat when the menacing dog looked directly at me. I coughed and my breezing was all over the place after that. Dad's strong grasp on my shoulders forced me to look in his direction.

"Chloe, look at me. Do exactly as I say, okay?"

I locked my gaze into his eyes.

"Okay."  
"I want you to close your eyes."

He had closed his own so I followed his example.

"Now imagine you're deep in the heart of the jungle, looking for treasure. You finally found its location but the way is blocked by all these obstacles. You have to evade them all if you want to reach it. It may seem like a daunting task, some would even say it's an impossible one, but I'm sure you can do it, right kiddo? For me?"

My father was right, I could do it, I just had to set my mind in the right stance. Dad's protection helped me put the thought of the hungry dog away. My breathing was working properly once more. With a deep breath in, I concentrated really hard on the task. 

The noisy establishment faded away to make place for the rich sounds of the deep jungle of Peru where I, the famous Doctor Pizarro Price was currently on an expedition. My t-shirt and jeans had been replaced with my favorite outfit: a green shirt and a pair of brown shorts with a safari hat tilted on the side. Currently standing at my side was my loyal associate, Doctor Dad. He was all smiles as always, in his black jeans and his blue shirt with brown suspenders. But now wasn't the time for chitchat and sightseeing, I had to focus on the mission: we had to cut through this rainforest until we reached the temple, then we would have to figure out a way to break the magic seal that locked its gate - may it be a challenger to defeat or a code to decipher - and once all of this would be done we would finally have access to the avatar of Ai Apaec. I was a big girl: five year old and not a baby anymore; I could do it.

Dad, already up and ready to go, was offering me a helping hand. I accepted it gladly.

"Of course I can do it, Doctor Dad!"  
"Excellent, let's go Doctor Chloe!"

Doctor Dad had gone a bit too heavy on the local spirits, he couldn't even remember my name properly. It wasn't too much of a problem, I just had to remind him of it.

"I'm Doctor Pizarro Price!"  
"Of course! My mistake, kiddo."

And then, we were off. I jumped on a fallen log and, letting go of Doctor Dad, I somersaulted over the black Caiman that wanted to make me his meal earlier - it would have to find something else to snack on this time. With the help of my trusty machete, the jungle's vines blocking our way forward didn't last for long. I had to keep the momentum, stopping from running now would mean the ones after me would be able to catch up. I kept on waving my arm around, slashing left and right. Most of the small predators on my path were so frightened that they kept out of my way.

"Watch out!"

Thanks to Doctor Dad's warning, I halted my course just in time before bumping into a giant otter. He saved my life once again. To show my dominance, I locked eyes with the majestic beast then, making sure I didn't break eye contact, I took a step back and circled around the mammal. While I kept the beast in check, Doctor Dad had been able to safely pass the otter as well. He had gone the other way around it and had continued the course. I broke eye contact and started running to catch up with him. Two more slashes of my machete and the gate was finally in front of us.

A beautiful ebony warrior guarded the door from behind some kind of wooden counter. This feature was completely out of sync with the jungle decor but it didn't matter, it had probably been put there at the whims of the magical jungle God or something. She was currently having a debate of sorts with two other adventurers. This distraction was the opportunity I needed to approach undetected. My hand covered my mouth to make sure only Doctor Dad would be able to hear me.

"Stay put, Doctor Dad, I'll go and investigate."  
"As you wish Doctor."

A few sneaky moves later, I finally had access to the gate. It would look like a normal wooden door for the common folk but I was not one of them. This was obviously reinforced tropical wood, even the strongest of axes wouldn’t be able to make a dent in it. The only way to open this door and unleash the temple's content was through a mystical lock. The famous Pizzaro Price wasn't about to be defeated by a measly lock. Every good adventurer had a checklist of ways to pass through these things. The lock might just have been an illusion, a simple trick that would stop lesser adventurers. A quick jump proved this theory wrong. The guardian might have forgotten to lock it back after the last time she had used it, they could be forgetful like that. A hard push of the door confirmed that the lock was firmly in place. The lock might require a vocal order to open. But which one? Was it one of the classics? Open Sesame. Friend. Open, please. None of them worked. I was missing something. My investigation hadn't been done thoroughly. The back of the lock revealed a number pad. Of course, I had to enter a series of numbers to have access. Sometimes, irresponsible guardians would write their special code in plain sight, in case they forgot it themselves. All I had to do was find them. Nothing was written on or around the gate. A small piece of paper had been left lying on the ground with a lot of numbers but there was space for only five digits on the number pad and the paper had at least thirteen of them. That was not it. Looking all over this vast jungle would be a waste of my time, I would never find what I was after. I might as well try my luck and enter some numbers in at random. Perhaps they had chosen an easy combination like a series of zero or ones. Both gave me the same result. I might as well try other easy ones. One, two, three, four… I stopped myself before entering the last number. More often than not, magical locks were able to detect when many failed attempts had been made and would set a curse on the presumed-invaders. I had been one digit away from possibly getting set on fire or being sprinkle acid. I had exhausted all my tricks, it was time to call on the help of my faithful companion.

He had probably anticipated my failure because he was about to enter in a discussion with the keeper of the gate.

"Hi."

He had a strange expression on his face, but it wasn't the one he had when he was around Queen Mother, so it was safe to let him continue. On the other end, the guardian was completely hooked.

"Welcome, welcome. I'm Katya. What can I do for you today?"  
"Nice to meet you Katya, it's a sweet business you've got there!"

Probably to charm her completely, he used one of his famous dazzling smiles. It was effective.

"Thank you. We opened recently and everyone seems to love it so far."

She was completely under his spell, holding her spear in one hand while twirling a lock of her long black hair with the other. Doctor Dad redirected his attention towards me.

"So, Doctor Pizarro Price, what do we say to the nice lady?"

I approached the counter to get closer to him. Seeing it from up close revealed that the counter was bigger than I had expected. The head of the guardian had been poking in and out of the top. I bet she couldn't even see me from up there. I wanted to try and climb this obstacle to get a better position but after a closer inspection of the counter I deemed the climb to risky so I opted to get my assistant help instead. I put my hands on the front of the counter as if I intended to climb it.

"I don't know Doctor Dad. I can't see her from here."

Doctor Dad was quick to guess my intention.

"Sorry, kiddo. Let me help you with that."

He knelt in front of me and allowed me to climb on his shoulders. He got up once again and I was at the perfect height to get the last piece to decipher the code. My assistant had been able to seduce the guardian into letting us in the temple, all I had to do was submit the proper vocal code to conclude the deal. Concentrating on the counter top that was covered in pictures of cats and dogs helped me formulate the perfect sentence.

"Oh I know now."

I faced the keeper of the gate and addressed her in the most formal manner I could muster.

"We came to see the cats, Ma'am, can we, please?"  
"Certainly my dear."

My delivery hadn't been perfect but it had been enough, the guardian looked pleased. She fetched a golden key from her pocket and went to the door. And voila, the gate opened before us, ready to reveal all its guarded treasures. Doctor Dad knelt once more to let me off his shoulders, and we made our way inside.

The entrance of the temple was filled from top to bottom with cages containing various creatures. Dogs, cats, rabbits and hamsters; even some glass domes full of snakes, rats and spiders. It was as if they were all looking at me, calling for her, desperate for my attention.

"Please! Please! Pick me! Please, I'm the one that you want, please choose me!"

I had to shunt their calls and concentrate but I was at the most hazardous part of the mission: I had to find the real avatar of Ai Apaec. As was expected from any proper god, he wouldn't make himself easy to find. He was hiding in a crowd of pretenders and if I was to choose the wrong one, the Inca god would be very upset and would probably set a curse on me and just close the door trapping me and my assistant inside the temple forever.

I was resourceful, I had a good idea of which form the Inca God would manifest into, so differentiating between the ones to ignore and the ones to pay attention to was a piece of cake.

After locating the cages containing the felines, I started my way towards them. The absence of boots thumping at my side meant my fellow explorer had lost his way. I retraced my steps while looking for him. Doctor Dad had stopped near one of the first cages.

"Oh! Look at these puppies, aren't they cute? We should get one!"

He reached inside the cage and started to pet one of the barking horrors. The tone of adoration coming from Doctor Dad wasn't a good sign at all. He had fallen for a pretenders' trick, I needed to quickly break the charm that was being cast on him.

"No, Doctor Dad. We said no dogs."  
"But look at those big eyes! Oh and their little paws! So adorable! I want one!"

The charm was strong, I had to put more emotion into my effort. I made my voice shakier.

"Daddy, please, I don't want a puppy!"

Doctor Dad sighed and retrieved his hand from the monsters' cage and took a step back.

"Okay kiddo. As promised, no puppy."

The spell was finally broken. I got back to my search. The temple had many felines' cages but after inspecting one after the other, there was still no avatar on sight. They were all calling for me, their voices coming at me on all sides, false idols the lot of them, so many deceptions, continuing my search became impossible. Perhaps Doctor Dad had had more luck on his side, I was about to look for him once more when a light breeze, coming from the back of the room, gave me goosebumps. This breeze was carrying a quiet whisper, soft enough to gently caress my ears but strong enough to pierce through the other noises.

"Chloe… Chloe… I'm here… Come to me."

Was it what I was looking for or another trick? There was only one way to find out. The pretenders were doubling their efforts but I ignored them all and concentrated on following this single voice. My heart beat faster and faster with each step. I was so close to my goal. After struggling for an eternity, I found the source of the voice, a magnificent jaguar was sitting inside a massive cage. He recognized me as soon as he laid eyes on me. He had been patiently waiting for me. Despite the darkness of the room, its grey and white fur shone brightly and its body outweighed all other felines in the temple. That was definitely it. He had his eyes locked on mine.

"Congratulations, Chloe. You've found me."

My hair rose involuntarily as he put his paw on the lock of the cage and with a brisk movement made it fall to the ground. Of course he hadn't really been caged, he was a god after all. Or was he? He was scary but beautiful. It was the moment of truth, either he was the real avatar and would accept me or he was another pretender, a convincing one if he was, and he would probably eat me alive. I had a good feeling about it, my brain was screaming no but my guts told me to go for it so I opened my arms widely. He slid out of his false prison and jumped to me, resting his head against my shoulder as I hugged him. Holding the avatar firmly, not wanting to let him slip and fall, I ran back to my father. 

"Dad! Dad! I found him!"  
"Wow, look at this beast! Hum…are you sure Chloe? Wouldn't you prefer a kitten instead? This one seemed a bit old…"

Of course Ai Apaec was old. He was older than him by a few millennia at least and they said on TV that a millennia was a very very very long time. He could have taken the form of a kitten if he had wanted to but he had chosen this one and I wasn't about to question his choices. Dad would have to get used to it.

"That's the one daddy!"  
"Alright kiddo, if that's the one you want, that's the one we will get! Let's go pay the nice lady then we can head back home, shall we?"

We went back to the front desk then Dad got hold of the guardian attention while taking out his wallet. He would usually give some pieces of paper or plastic to a person in exchange for food or things he wants us to keep for ourselves but why would he do that now? The avatar was neither food nor a thing. It couldn't be exchanged this way. The avatar had chosen me and that was it, no need for exchange. No one would deny that. With him in my arms, I was unstoppable. No one could make me leave this place without him. Or had the guardian kept some tricks up her sleeves? Some hold over him that I hadn't caught on yet.

"We will be taking this one."

The guardian looked a bit distraught.

"Of course, but how did the cat get out of its cage?"  
"I'm not sure, he was with her when I first saw it."

Adults. Everything had to be explained to them.

"He freed himself Ma'am."

The gatekeeper's gaze was lingering on me from up high, the attention was accompanied by a condescending smile.

"Oh really?"

Was it really that hard to believe? He really didn't need my help to escape his cage.

Her attention went back to Dad.

"The lock must have been busted I guess, I'll fix it later. Anyway, have you looked at our kittens? We have many cute little ones. I'm sure you would prefer one of them over this old tomcat…"

She hadn't completely believed me but at least she wasn't suspecting me to have broken him out. But they were still fixating on this young kitten obsession with them. I had to rectify it quickly.

"No. This one is perfect."

The lady wasn't convinced. She took a step towards me. She might get the idea that separating me from the avatar would change my mind. I reinforced my hold on him. She would never get him back. He was mine now.

She had finally gotten it and took a step back, wearing a genuine smile on her face.

"She already loves her new friend, doesn't she?"

Dad was smiling as well.

"It sure looks that way."  
"Do you have a name for him, little one?"

She posed a good question. Should I use his real name or go with a pseudonym? I brought the avatar to my face to have a good look at him, expecting him to have an answer. He started by licking my nose.

"The name is important."

His tongue was rough, leaving wet spots on my skin, I couldn't help but giggle. He was right, the name was important, we should be using his real one.

"Yayapek."

As soon as his name escaped my mouth, his expression changed to a frown. Did I make a mistake? Did I misinterpret his intentions? Were the grown-ups reacting in a similar way? The guardian looked confused while Dad was more concerned.

"Ya… what?"  
"Yayapek? Really, Chloe?"

The guardian was acting like she had never heard the name before, which was strange since she was supposed to have been guarding him all this time or wasn't she aware of the content of the temple? Dad already heard the name at least once from the previous night but even he mispronounced it or perhaps he just hadn't heard me properly? Once more, the usual grown-ups hearing problems forced me to repeat myself.

"Yayapek!"

Dad was thoughtful for a second.

"Ya ya pek… do you mean Ai Apaec?"

He was toying with me. That was exactly what I had said.

"Yes. Yayapek!"

Dad's concern was replaced by a giant smile.

"Oh Chloe, we can't name the cat after one of the most feared gods of the Mochica. What would the neighbors say?"

A look of confusion had spread all over the guardian face.

"Where did she hear a name like that?"

Was she just faking knowing who they were to impress my father or had she been trying to trick us and finally had let her guard down? Was she really surprised that I might know more than her? Either way, she was completely out of her element and Dad was trying to reassure her.

"Oh, we watch a lot of documentaries together."

In the end, my queries didn't matter. Dad had rejected naming the avatar by its real name and the avatar was disappointed in me for some reason. He would deem me not worthy and would probably leave me to go back to his cage, waiting for the next chosen one. I had failed my mission. I couldn't control myself, I might fool myself in believing I was a big girl all I wanted, in reality I was still young and on the verge of tears. My life was only going downhill from here.

I was closing my eyes hoping to prevent the flow of tears to run down freely a little longer when a paw moved back and forth on my arm in a reassuring way.

"They don't understand. They are not ready."

A single tear escaped my eyelid while a smile came back on my face. I hadn't failed after all. He was still accepting me. We would just have to be patient. Dad hadn't noticed my tears, he was still smiling but also waiting. Apparently he was expecting something from me.

"Come now Chloe, can't we find something easier to pronounce?"

Right, I had to come up with a cover name for the avatar but before anything came to mind, Dad was having suggestions of his own.

"Like Ash…"

The avatar was simply shaking his head. Ash wasn't good enough.

"Or Cinder…"

He was looking away, clearly uninterested by the suggestion.

"Or Bongo?"

He nodded. That was it.

"Fine, Dad. Bongo will do."

Bongo licked my face again. He was happy with the choice that had been made.

"Nicely done, Chloe."

Dad made a clearly fake frown for a second then declared with his booming voice.

"Excellent, yonder Queen is going to love this. We went looking for a dog and we are bringing her a bongo cat instead.”

Despite his comment, he looked happy with the result of our expedition. He gave the lady some pieces of paper and mentioned for us to head towards the exit. The deal was done. Bongo was mine. We left the pet shop and made our way home with the new addition to the Price family.


	2. Vessel maintenance and first expedition

Accessing the bathroom sink required me to stand on the tip of my toes. Emptying out the mix of cleaning water and leftovers currently swirling inside my mouth without leaving any on the floor was still a challenge but I was getting better at it. This complicated operation was being overseen by our in-house health inspector that was patiently waiting by my side.

"Show me."

I opened my now-empty mouth wide and displayed my perfectly clean white teeth to Mum. She wore an approving smile for a second and shoved an opened hand forward. I offered my toothbrush to the meaty receptacle and Mum put it back with the others into the blue plastic cup that was resting on the inaccessible side of the sink. My toothbrush was the best, it was yellow with some brown patches all over and a giraffe head at the end. Following Mum's teaching I was able to brush my teeth on my own, but I had trouble reaching for the sink water tap.

"It's time for a checkup."

Mum had been there for the whole cleaning process but she always wanted to make sure I didn't forget anything.

"Teeth?"

We just went over that but whatever. I grinded my teeth and pointed towards them.

"All cleaned."  
"Shower?"

Shower meant cleaning the rest of my body by the sink. I rarely was allowed to use the real shower, only when I had been particularly dirty but that wasn't one of these occasions. I pointed towards the wet towel that was still lying on the ground.

"Done!"  
"Ears?"

Mum had dunked my head under the sink water stream to make sure they were both clean. I hated that but she said it was necessary. I put one index in my left ear and the other just hovering an inch over the other then proceeded to remove the finger from the left one and at the same time putting the other into the right one then repeated the sequence in the other way, left one in, right one out. It was a trick Dad had shown me. When our ears are properly clean one was able to pass a finger from one ear to the other but since our fingers were too small and couldn't be easily removed from our hands, we had to use two to reproduce the effect. Mum had immediately insisted to never put anything else in my ears and even if they were perfectly clean to never put my fingers too deep in either. Leaving them on the edge was fine. She had drilled into my head that bad things would happen if I didn't follow these instructions so I never risked it. Anyway, that was our sign to say our ears were cleaned.

"Pajamas?"

I pointed at my torso where I was wearing my favorite pajamas. The one with the pink elephant. It was so comfy.

"Did you have your glass of water?"  
"I…no."

The yellow cup that was peacefully resting near its colleague until now was suddenly taken away from the counter, filled with water and ended up in my left hand. Some water had escaped it and spilt on its side, making the cup slippery, I used my second hand to stabilize it then gobbled all the water in one go and gave the cup back to Mum.

"Perfect. Looks like you're ready for bed now. Head on over to your room."

I happily bolted towards my chamber. Bongo was already waiting for me there, curled up on my bed. Our neighbors had given us one of their old cat beds. That went into the living room but my furry friend hadn’t taken a liking to it so he was sleeping in my room for now.

My bed welcomed me with open arms. Well, no. With opened sheets instead. I slid under the blankets.

"Mum! I'm ready for my story!"  
"Your father will come in a minute, sweetie."

Yes. I loved when it was Dad's turn. He was always making sure characters had their own voices and added sound effects. A quick inspection around the bed revealed a blank spot. Someone was missing. Mr. Sharky, my faithful stuffed shark wasn't in my bed where I’d left him. I had him since forever and I brought him with me wherever I went in the house. Mum had told me a long time ago that it was a house shark because contrary to normal sharks that only survive under water, Mr. Sharky could only survive inside our house. I had tried to bring him outside once or twice and he had been fine, only that one time when he had a mud bath and Mum had to keep him for a full week to clean him up. But Mum knew best so since then I only kept him inside the house. He couldn't have gone far. I double checked my surroundings, under and over the blanket and even under the bed itself but he was nowhere to be found.

"Bongo? I can't find Mr. Sharky anywhere, do you know where he is?"  
"I haven't seen him in here. Maybe he is taking his monthly bath in the laundry room?"  
"He had it last week."

I got out of bed and checked my entire room without success.

"Mum? Have you seen Mr. Sharky?"  
"You left it downstairs by the TV."  
"Can I go get him?"  
"Yes, sweetie, but just this once. And while you are downstairs, remind your father that he has to read you a story. I think he has forgotten."

Mum was joking, he would never forget story time. He always loved it.

"Thanks, Mum."

After having an eventless descent down the stairs - I didn't fall on my head this time, Mum told me my head wasn't made of rubber so I should avoid that - I made my way towards the garage and was welcomed by the cling and clang of Dad's tools slamming against the car. Dad was still hard at work.

I could hear him but I couldn't see him. I had to call for him.

"Dad?"

The slamming stopped for a second and something moved from under the car. My father poked his head out.

"Hey, Kiddo! What're you doing here?"  
"Hey Dad. You need to read me a story."  
"Right, right. It's story time. Could you wait a little bit? I'm almost finished under there. It will only take me a second, I promise."  
"Okay, Dad."

I climbed on the lower table, near the work bench and sat down. That was my favorite spot in the garage. I could see my dad working on the car from there and also keep an eye on both the front and back doors in case someone felt like launching a surprise attack on us while we were working.

I waited patiently for a few minutes. A few long minutes. The time it takes for a minute to pass was still not clear, Mum had told me we would get around to that soon, but surely these minutes were some of the long ones. After a very long minute, Dad finally poked his hand back out.

"Kiddo? Are you still around?"  
"Yes, Dad."  
"Could you hand me the fifteen… No, the eighteen-inch adjustable wrench please? Do you remember which one it is?

Yes. The wrench. I was familiar with this one. The head and the handle of the tool were made from the same piece. I just had trouble with the eighty niches part of the name.

"Hum…"  
"It's the big yellow and orange one."  
"Okay, Dad."

I looked through the toolbox set on my right side for a tool with a yellow sticker as well as an orange sticker on its handle. Dad had tried to explain to me the difference between each tool but I couldn't get my head around all of them so he decided to put stickers on them. Finding them was super easy that way. My dad and I, we were a super team.

The tool had been hidden at the bottom of the box. It was probably feeling sleepy and didn't want to be bothered. Too bad for it! Tossing the tool to Dad would have been the fastest way to give it to him but my arms weren't strong enough for a throw at this distance so I opted to jump down my comfy place and handing him the tool in person.

"There, Dad."  
"Thank you, kiddo. Right on the first try. You're the best!"

While Dad rolled back under the car, I climbed on my spot, giggling all the way.

"This new creeper is my best purchase yet! Did you see how fast I crawled in and out of under the car? And I can adjust its height also. It does wonders for my back. I can comfortably focus on fixing up the little things under the car. Remember yesterday, when I told you I felt a strange vibration every time the car turned? The front axle was getting loose! We could have had an accident if I hadn't found it with the help of my new creeper!"

Dad was working on something important under there so my story would have to wait a little longer.

Some time later, the front door opened a little more - I had left it open when I came in - and Bongo joined us. He must have been wondering where I was. He was probably waiting for the story as well. He jumped on the lower table and settled down on my lap. Scratches behind the ears were in order.

"There is something stuck between these two cables. Chloe? Could you hand me the green and red screwdriver? I think that's the smallest one we have, that will help me dislodge this sucker."

Bongo jumped out of my lap, hovered over the toolbox for a second then pointed towards something. He had located the needed tool. I grabbed it and brought it to the mechanic.

"Thanks again, kiddo. Get ready, plastic bit. Your time has come! Just. Let. Me. Get. That. Under. There! Wow, that sucker really didn't want to move but we got it in the end! That should be enough for… Wait a minute, that shouldn't be moving like that. Gimme a minute to readjust it…"

My eyes closed for a second and my chin rested on the top of my chest. I was getting sleepy. Dad was nearly finished, he said so. I just had to persevere for a little longer and I would get my story. I just needed to rest my eyes for a while and I'd be good to go. I leaned on the lower table, resting my head on a pile of towels and closed my eyes. Bongo cuddled against my stomach. The voice of my dad was mixing with the sounds of metal banging into a smooth serenade.

* * *

"What is the meaning of this?"

Everything was dark until my eyelids finally accepted to depart from one another. Mum was standing by the front door with a white towel on her head wearing her pajamas with the white and pink stripes. Dad was upright once more, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.

"Honey, I can explain."  
"You'd better. Why is our daughter still up?"  
"I was so close to finishing down here… she was helping me around… and we lost track of time. Sorry, honey."  
"That's unacceptable! You're in charge of cleaning her up and putting her to bed now. She'd better wake up fresh and ready tomorrow."  
"Yes, honey."

Mum turned around and left the garage. I rubbed my eyes. I had to fight the temptation of going straight back to sleep. I really wanted my story.

"Story time?"  
"Sure thing, Kiddo. Let me check you out first."

I let Bongo move to the side then jumped off the table. Dad walked around me with a hand under his chin. He crunched and looked at my feet then took my hands in his and turned them around.

"Good. You didn't soil your clothes. We'll just have to clean your hands and you will be ready to go."

My legs were hurting a little. They didn't want to support my body anymore. He picked me up and held me against his chest. I rested my head on his shoulder. He moved swiftly up the stairs and into the bathroom, helped me wash my hands and dry them then he put me into my bed.

"So which story will it be tonight?"  
"The genie one!"  
"Aladdin again? Aren't you tired of this one?"  
"The genie one!"  
"Okay, kiddo. If you insist."  


He fetched the book that was standing on the top of the nightstand and we started our journey into the world of Agrabah.

* * *

I'd never complain about having to go to sleep. I'd always appreciated this part of the day. A few things came to mind as to why. The resting factor was a big part of it. I had tried once to go without sleep for as long as I could but I hadn't been able to resist for long and once the morning came I'd been in a foul mood that persisted all day long. Since then I'd vowed to never go without my beauty sleep. The previous evening had been pushing it a little bit but since it was the weekend, I would just sleep a bit more in the morning to balance it out. My bed was definitely another factor. The soft and delicate bedsheet caressing my skin, the huge mattress that could swallow me whole. The peace and quiet of the night was always a welcome sight after a full day of chaos. Sleep was important, sleep was one of the best parts of my day. So I was vexed when I was taken from my dreams by something rough and wet on my nose.

I groaned. My nose was assaulted again then it was my cheeks' turn. I half-heartedly opened an eye only to find myself face to face with a Bengal tiger.

"Princess, we have to hurry!"

Besides having both my eyes opened by now, I was still barely awake. I looked around while straightening up on the bed, trying to shake the sense of sleep away. My bed felt larger than usual, the cotton sheets had been replaced by smooth silk ones. A small candle by my bedside was illuminating my chamber enough to show that the walls were now made of sandstone and the room itself was ten times bigger. I focused back on the mass weighting on my legs. The tiger was still staring at me, expectantly.

"What is it, Rajah?"

He put his paw on my forearm for a second, jumped out of bed in the direction of the closed chamber door and clawed at it a few times.

Was he just playing with the door? We bought him a scratcher just for this purpose. Or perhaps he needed to go do his business and he wanted me to let him out. I wasn't awake enough to decide which one was more plausible. I rolled off the bed and slid into my pink bunny slippers.

"Why did you wake me up? I was having the most wonderful dream. I was… I don't remember exactly but it was just the best."

The light of the Moon was piercing through the window and slightly illuminating the door. The Bengal beast was clawing at the door frame once again while sporting a frown. He must have been in a hurry and was finding me too slow to come to him. My body was working at half-speed. My feet dragged all the way to the door. I had to summon all the strength I had left to open it.

Apparently, he was just toying with me. He continued to look at me without showing any intention of leaving the room. I didn't want to play games, my mattress was calling for me, so I closed the door and started slowly walking back to bed. Rajah started his wood scratching again. I was so close to going back to my dreams, they were waiting for me. One more foot and I would be there. But no, I had to turn around and attend to this annoying beast. He would go at it all night if he felt like it. I spun towards the tiger and made my way back to the door once more. This irritation had made me a bit more awake so I had less trouble opening the door this time. My hand didn't leave the door handle this time and I just stared at him while trying to conjure an angry expression. That didn't pan out. I was adamant. I started counting, if he hadn't moved before ten, I would drag him out of the room myself. At two, his claw brushed my foot.

"Quickly Princess!"

Apparently we were supposed to be in a hurry and we had to leave the room together. Fine, my bed would have to wait. I had to get to the bottom of this and for that to happen I had to follow his order. I'd barely set one foot out when the tiger pushed me aside and sped out of the room like something had stung him. He jumped on the wall opposite to my door to help making his left turn and propelled himself forwards only to abruptly stop in front of the bathroom.

"The evil vizier is approaching the palace. We have to make sure every door is in working condition and are properly closed!"

He started clawing at the door. One. Two. Three times. One day I would teach him to open doors on his own but for now I had to do it for him. A few heavy steps later, I was at his side. The handle rotated without resistance, giving us access to the bathroom. Rajah was staying put, he clearly had no intention of going inside. A sigh escaped my mouth as I firmly closed the door. I didn't have the key so that was all I could do for this one.

"Good job! One done. Next!"

He jumped to the next door, the one limiting access to the old storage room. I dragged myself a few more feet to join him.

"There is no point checking this one, Rajah. You know it won't open."

Dad had mentioned they'd stored things they wouldn't use anymore in there and at one point something must have fallen and locked the door from within. Since they didn't really care about its content he hadn't bothered unlocking it so far. I'd never seen this door open in my life. But Rajah was insisting so I had to try anyway. And as predicted, the door didn't budge.

"See? What did I tell you?"

Satisfied, he went to the Sultan's gate and clawed at it twice. We had to be careful with this one. If we were to wake up the Sultan or his concubine, there would be hell to pay. I tried to open it as quietly as I could but the handle was resisting my attempt. It was properly locked. I bent down to peep through the keyhole but something was obstructing my view.

"They locked this one from the inside, Rajah."  
"It will do then, let's check downstairs."

The Bengal tiger ran for the stairs and I slowly followed him. My legs were reminding me that there wasn't supposed to be any walking done at this hour of the night but I had to ignore them. The evil vizier wasn't a joking matter, I had to see the task through.

It took me an eternity to go down the stairs all the while trying not to fall asleep and miss a step but I was able to reach the Bengal tiger. He was standing in front of the stable's back gate. This was where the Sultan was keeping his most prestigious steed, it was accessible from inside the palace via two gates, the back one where we were currently standing and the front one that was situated in the living area. There was also a main gate separating the stable directly from the outside but if the two inner gates were secured that should be sufficient to keep the evil vizier at bay. I clasped the gate's handle and tried to turn it but was met with resistance. It didn't move.

"Locked as well."

The tiger scrutinized the lock to make sure I hadn't botched my task then walked to the front door. I tried to open it as well but I ended up with the same result.

"Same for this one."

The next objective for my furry guard was the kitchen, he disappeared under its opened arch. What was so interesting in the kitchen? There was no door there. Perhaps he wanted to make sure that the window was secure as well. He reappeared in the living room, on the dining table. He looked left and right and ran to my side.

"I heard movement! He is coming!"

He ran back to the living room, speeding up towards the sofa and apparently ended up near the front gate of the stable. He better not leave any claw marks. I advanced toward him carefully, not wanting to alert our enemy of my presence if he was nearby but also to avoid bumping into anything. The dining table had been illuminated by the Moon but the rest of the room was in total darkness. I should have turned the lights on, they wouldn't reach the Sultan's bedroom so that wouldn't have bothered them. Maneuvering the upstairs area at night was a mastered skill by now but downstairs was still unfamiliar territory. The front gate was locked.

"Well that's it, all doors are secured. Can we go back to bed now, my faithful companion?"  
"You forgot this one."

The Bengal tiger was pointing his paw at the glass door that led into the palace's garden.

"The Sultan always locks this one in the evening."

Or did he? I wasn't always around when Dad locked this door and I hadn't seen him do it this time around. So I marched to the glass door and rested my hand on its handle. One wrist motion and the door opened. The one time he had forgotten. The garden had only the part near the glass door lit at night but all seemed quiet.

"Well, looks like you were right to check it out."  
"Majesty, your attention please."  
"What is it?"  
"I have to leave now. I need to go on a mission of the utmost importance. The evil vizier could arrive at any time, so you have to close the door behind me, lock it good and go back to your room. I'll return as soon as I'm done. You will be safe as long as you stay inside."

And just like that, the Bengal tiger disappeared in the darkness of the garden.

I had my new orders and they were to stay put and wait for his return. Nothing was preventing me from going back to bed now. Half way through closing the glass door there was a horrible screech outside. It was followed by a piercing howling. Was it coming from a wolf or a feline? The noise must have damaged my brain, there were no wolves in this desert. Something had happened to Rajah. I had to do something about it. It meant going against my order. Once again, my bed would have to wait.

I ran outside and closed the door behind me. My royal parents would be pissed but at least they wouldn't be in danger of the evil vizier. I had to get my bearings. The awful sounds had been too far away to come from the garden so I had to find a way to get out of here. Which tools did I have at my disposal that would help me achieve that?

"The Sultan rescued a kite from the roof this morning, he might have left his step ladder nearby."

The shed was the most likely place he would have left the ladder. And it was resting under a window. I lifted it with some effort, it was a bit heavy for me but I could handle it. I moved it against the wall and climbed it, rested a second on top of the wall looking down on the other side. My landing area was cleared so I let myself fall and I was out of the palace and in the streets of Agrabah.

The streets were lit by torches, it was as clear as day time but there was no sign of my companion. I had to focus more and start paying attention to every little detail. The left side looked dead while the right side had some actions. I went in the direction of the latter. A family of rats crossed the road and leapt into a manhole. A couple of crows stared at me from the top of a laundry line then flew away to probably take care of their own business. Countless other insignificant things were happening but there were still no signs of my furry friend. Had I chosen the right direction? I had to carry on nonetheless. A bug flew around a lamppost, landed on it and fell to the ground. Looked like no one had told it the story of Icarus. I had had a good time when Mum had read it to me.

This path was familiar. We traveled it very often so I wasn't surprised to come across a crossroads but it meant a choice had to be made on where to go next. The way forward would bring me to the royal park, the barracks of the armed guards were on the left and there were only more residences on the right. Or I could also just give up on this path, turn around and try the other way.

A gust of wind passed all over my body, despite the constant walking my legs were starting to get cold. My face was obstructed for a second by a newspaper traveling along the wind. Sweeping it aside, it continued its trip alongside the road to my right. I took it as a sign and went towards the residences.

I walked and walked and walked some more, I was reminded of how vast Agrabah really was. I might spend days looking for the Bengal tiger and my feet were starting to hurt bad. Wearing slippers for this kind of operation hadn't been my best idea. I should have prepared better. Of course, as the Sultan's daughter, I could go into any household and declare to be given new shoes and they would all obey me. But I was a fair princess, I wouldn't want to take advantage of my status, I preferred not to burden my subjects with such matters. After all it was my fault, I hadn't prepared enough. I would do better next time. For now I had to focus on my own mission. Rescuing my companion was top priority.

The road ahead was quiet, too quiet. No more night birds chirping, no more rats or other small animals running around, the town seemed only composed of stationary chariots and closed doors. Only the buzzing sound of the torches lighting the road was keeping me company. One house, far up ahead, was still alive. There were lights coming out of its window. Perhaps my furry guard had taken refuge there. I soldiered on towards it. It took me longer than expected but I was finally closing in on the house. I took two more steps then closed my eyes. They needed to rest for a second. Continuing walking with my eyes closed was a bad idea so I stopped before bumping into something. I was only a few feet away from my objective when a scent of copper passed through my nostril, it was immediately followed by something very cold landing on my face. My finger lingered on the spot the thing had hit and came up wet. Had it been a single drop of rain? Rare occurrence around this part but that wasn't it. The texture on impact had been all wrong. It had been solid and cold. A snowflake? In the desert? I was being silly. It didn't matter, finding my furry guard was more important. I had a house to investigate. I focused my attention back in front of me but… Where did the house go? Well it must still be there, these things don't usually disappear into thin air. My eyes must have been defective. A few rubs later, the house was back in its original spot but there wasn't any light coming out of it anymore. The residents might have gone to sleep and switched it off. The night birds were chirping again, so that was a good thing but that was contrasted by the fact that there was still no sign of Rajah. This house wasn't what I was looking for. I had to move on.

I continued on my way but wasn't encountering anything more. I was the sole living element of a still picture. After an eternity of passing through this unanimated world, finally something manifested itself in the distance. Its form had been too big for the usual rodents or birds. It might have been the evil vizier so prudence was in order. The garbage can to my left was the perfect spot for observing without being detected. The mysterious form transformed into a feline creature, running at full speed. It had the same features as my Bengal tiger but that wasn’t him. This beast's fur was all white. What was a snow leopard doing around this part of town? I'd never heard of such a creature in our whole country even. Had it escaped a traveling circus? Either I had chosen a good spot or the creature was playing dumb. It ran past me as if it hadn't noticed me. I stayed still and held my breath. It turned around a corner and disappeared. I counted to four then breezed out. The danger had passed, it was time to go on my way.

Not too long afterwards, I found myself in front of an abandoned house. The main door was slightly ajar and one of the windows was broken. Some bad words that my father told me never to say in public were tagged on the wall. The house looked familiar somehow. Right, Dad had driven by it a few months ago and Mum had told me to look elsewhere as we were getting close to it. That might have been because of the graffiti. They had complained about the state of the house. It had been like this forever. This house was popular with the kids in kindergarten. They all had their own stories about it. One said the house was supposed to be haunted by a family that had been eaten by their own dogs. Another one said it had been built on ancient Native American burial grounds and that at night the ancient spirits would come out and poke the ones who dared venture into it. They were probably not first-hand accounts, their parents would certainly never let them out at night to verify all this but these stories could still be true. I stayed carefully behind the picket fence and tried to look through the window for any signs of ghosts or people with feathered hats. So far nothing special came into view. My tiger probably hadn’t stopped in this house either. I had to continue. I was turning around to leave when two silver dots appeared on the edge of my peripheral vision. The dots that had flashed and were gone had been coming from the broken window. The house started to produce a very familiar noise. The sounds of claws hitting the pavement. My majestic beast appeared through the front door, jumped over the fence with ease and landed on my shoulder.

"What are you doing here? I told you to stay safe at home!"  
"It's good to see you! I heard a noise so I thought the evil vizier had caught you. I came out looking for you in case you needed rescuing but I couldn't find you so I searched some more and here I am. Oh, Bongo. I was so worried!"

I grabbed my friend and cuddled him. My trip was over, Bongo was safely in my arms now.

"If you're done with your business here, we can go home now."

All that left to do was retracing my steps and going back home. That was when a pinch of anxiety came over me. All the houses looked the same under the low light of the electric poles. Had I walked a straight line or had I taken a turn here and there? What was the way home again? My brain wasn't working anymore, I would have to rely on Bongo for guidance.

"I think we might be lost."  
"Humans…"

Bongo jumped down and started to walk. He was sure of himself. That was a good sign.

"Follow me."

I did as I was told and I followed my cat. He had more experience with the environment in this condition than I did. The way back was less stressful. I would probably have to throw away my slippers, I doubted Mum would be able to fix them once I got home. Ah, home. Where heat was waiting for me. And my bed, mainly my bed. Opening the front door and leaving behind all this sand. That would be perfect. The front door... I had missed something important in my plans.

"How are we going to enter the palace now? The front gate is locked, the garden's door is still unlocked but safe behind a wall and I'm not as agile as you are, I can't climb over walls!"  
"You could try one of the windows. We didn't check them earlier. The evil vizier would never stoop so low as to enter from one."

Our windows were too high for me to grab onto but a good jump would do the trick, even if I wasn't wearing my sports shoes.

"The windows won't be easy to access but we will find a way."  
"That's the spirit!"

We walked for a long time then we walked some more. How was Bongo able to walk this much so effortlessly? I had to vent out.

"This little adventure of ours is going to destroy my sleeping schedule. There's no way I'll wake up on time tomorrow. If we ever reach the house before morning comes that is."

Bongo turned his head only to roll his eyes at me. He continued on as if I had said nothing. We turned the next corner and we were on our street. I had spoken too soon. My feet and legs were thankful to finally see my house.

"Yes! We found it!"  
"More like I did the whole work but whatever…"

Bongo stopped on the spot. After I had caught up, he jumped into my arms and looked at me expectantly. He wanted a reward after bringing us back home. I started administering scratches under my companion's chin as I made my way towards the house. The house that had its lights on. Did I switch them all off before I left? There was only one possibility. The parents were awake.

"Uh oh…"  
"Uh oh indeed."  
"Well at least that will solve the door problem."

Mum was standing in the doorway, a little hunched over, with her back to me. She had the phone glued to her ear. I took a deep breath and walked in the front yard. As soon as I set foot on the lawn, she turned around.

"Oh my god, Chloe! There you are! You scared the hell out of me!"

Mum dropped the phone and ran to me. Bongo jumped on the side to get out of her way.

"I was worried sick! Where have you been? How did you leave the house? How long have you been out? And you're still wearing your slippers? Look at them, they're all dirty now! What happened to you? Where did you go? Why did you leave? How…"

I zoned the rest of her questions out. Judging by her reaction she was a bit more relieved than angry. The true remedy for such a situation was a proper hug. I closed the distance with her, my arm opened and she engulfed me into a bear hug.

"It's okay, Mum. I'm okay. Nothing happened. I just saw Bongo go into the garden then there was a bad noise so I went after him to make sure he wasn't hurt."

Her heartbeat was still pumping frantically but at least the warmth of her body was starting to heat me back up. The desert at night had never been a warm place but we really had a cold walk home.

"Oh, sweetie… you shouldn't scare us like that."

Her arms were closing in a bit tighter than a normal hug would require. The air started to get thin. My face was definitively turning purple. I was relieved when she finally loosened her hug a little but not completely, just enough for me to breathe again. This moment of respite lasted only a second. My ears didn't approve when she started shouting towards the house.

"Darling! Darling! It's okay, she's back! She's here!"

Mum took a step back and gently placed her hands on my cheeks then brought her face closer. Her nose touched mine.

"We'd better go inside before we wake up the neighbors."

Letting go of my face, she gently held me by the arm and we went together into the house, Bongo always one step ahead of us.

From that day on, no more doors were left unlocked at night.


	3. In time of war

Some would say I grew up too fast but I hadn’t had any choice. The Surprise War, as the higher-ups had called it, was responsible for that. My parents had dreamed of a better, more serene life for me but the war had shattered that dream. On the morning of my seventeen birthday, my enrollment paper had been hand-delivered to the Air Force recruitment office. A few years of tears and sweat saw me rise through the ranks until the training school finally let me out with the position of lieutenant. Out of school, straight to the front, on my very first mission.

So here I was, struggling to keep on my feet in a metal coffin, high up in the air, surrounded by the muffled sounds of explosion. My superior, Commander Beth, was looking at me, her mouth moving but no sound was coming out. Something was definitely wrong with me. A slap to my left ear made the ambient noise come back but the right one was still obstructed by something. Pulling the bugger out without ripping my ear off took a painful second. Whatever it had been, it finished its days on the floor. An explosion detonated in an orange flash a few hundred yards from the cockpit. They were even more impressive with my full hearing on.

"…Chloe! What are you doing?! Can you hear me?"

A quick nod was more effective than a sentence, especially in this noisy environment. With my back straightened up, my feet joined together, my hand was on its way to perform a salute but that was in vain. The commander was busy elsewhere, with her back to me, giving orders left and right. Should I stay at attention or had it been a false alarm? Giving it a minute then going back to my bench was a reasonable response.

"We are taking heavy fire, every woman to her station! Bombardier Chloe!"

Ten seconds had barely passed before she walked all the way to my position and stood an inch from my face. My hand sped up to my temple in a quick salute.

"Yes, ma'am!"  
"The plane is in your hands now. Aim at those Flak Cannons, they are shredding us to pieces!"

The explosions outside were making the whole plane vibrate. They were getting closer and closer. Despite the lack of direct impacts, the plane was acting like it was constantly hit by a jackhammer. A loud boom resonated on the left side of the plane, preventing me from responding to my superior. The side window was partially covered in dirt but was able to show the smoke coming from the left wing. One of them damned shrapnels had finally hit home. My commander hadn't moved from her spot and was staring me down with stern eyes. She was waiting for my answer. My salute went back up.

"Ma'am, yes ma'am!"

She went back to shouting orders at someone else. My assigned task was calling for me. Payload delivery was my job. It was like being a mailman but my packages were a little bit less welcomed and the dogs running after me were a bit more aggressive. Running to the front of the heavy bomber took a second. Pilot Margaret didn't even flinch when my hand tapped on her shoulder. This gal had nerves of steel. She promptly stood up and let me settle down on her seat. The plane's handle was an extension of my arm. The metallic bird responded immediately to my every command and moved promptly towards the target of our next payload. This mission required me to be quick and precise. There was no room for error. The enemy reinforcement would soon arrive and any slight miscalculation could have resulted in civilian casualties. Everything was ready, just waiting for the go ahead from my superior.

"All is set, ma'am!"

Despite another series of close-by explosions, the commander shouts came through.

"Fire! Fire! Fire!"

Another boom roared through the plane, followed by the scratching of metal then the cabin pressured change. A piece of shrapnel had pierced the bottom of the plane and lodged itself on the roof, right next to the commander's head, missing her by just an inch. She didn't look at all bothered by the fact, she quickly asked for the hole to be patched up and continued on shouting her orders at everyone. Fixing the plane wasn't my job, more important things were required of me.

The greenlight had been given. Each steps of the procedure to follow were popping up, one after the other inside my head as if recalling a grocery list. They had trained us well at the academy. Check the status of the jam warning. Off. Verify a second time the target position. Our target hadn't had legs so it could have moved but we were still good to go. Rotate the trap door clutch one hundred and eighty degrees to the right. The trap door was unlocked. Press the third button to the left to unload the cargo. The bombs were released. The floor window had a great view of the bombs falling to the ground. Most of them landed on our objective. What was once a set of Flask Cannons protecting a weapon factory had become nothing but a pile of metal and concrete rubble. The mission was a success. Pilot Margaret came back to relieve me of my post. She took back control of the plane back and she started to turn us around to fly us home. That was when the death machines popped out of the clouds right in front of us. We had taken too long. The Luftwaffe had arrived, with at least ten planes. We were too slow to evade them and all our support planes had been gunned down while bringing us here. We were doomed.

"Chloe! Dinner's ready in five minutes. Don't forget to wash your hands first. This goes for you too, darling!"  
"Yes my queen, I'm just finishing up with the lenses and I'll go do that right away!"

That wasn't the kind of sounds one would expect coming from a squadron of Nazi planes.

"Okay Mum!"

The last few strokes of the grey pencil finished the coloring of the wing of the fourth Nazi's aircraft. The rest would have to wait. The on-fire bomber went to rest as the drawing book closed. I would find time to go back to it after dinner so the book didn't leave the table. As I stood up from my favorite yellow plastic chair the whole world went dark. My newly made helmet had fallen forward again. Realigning it properly brought back my vision. I was proud of my new headgear, I'd made it mostly on my own; I had used an old strainer basket on which I had glued part of a potato net and had used some of Dad's buckets of paint to obtain the perfect shade of dark grey with which I covered the helmet. It would protect me well.

If the sound of pans banging against one another were any indication, Mum was busy in the kitchen and Dad was probably fixing his camera in the garage. All that was missing was my favorite cat, where was he at? There he was, barging in the room like he had the devil on his tail. He was bouncing all over my room to get to me. Once on the table, then the cabinet next to it then he landed smoothly on my shoulder. We had a psychic link, he and I. Every time I thought about him, he would show up. Okay, not every time but I just had to shout his name and, no matter where he was, he would come to me.

"Hey you, it's time to eat!"

My scratchings under his chin were received with an appreciative purr. That was one of his favorite spots to be scratched on. My feet brought me out of the room towards the stairs. My helmet took this opportunity to move slightly on the side. Bongo patted me on the ear wanting my attention. Had I forgotten something?

"Right, first we have to clean our hands."

Changing direction we made our way to the bathroom instead. The sink wasn't as much of an insurmountable challenge as it once was when I was a little girl but I was still a bit too short to access it completely. The operation required a little more elevation. Dad had left around a small footstool for this purpose. Once placed in front of the sink a quick climb was bringing me to the perfect height. Bongo jumped on the counter and proceeded to paw at the faucet. Water started to drip out then changed to a steady stream.

"Thank you, Bongo."

My hands were a mess of red, grey and blue. Which had more inks: my drawing or my fingers? My hands perturbed the uniform stream's flow and the once clear water transformed into a rainbow. A good chunk of the ink was gone but there was still some leftover resisting the water. I needed to bring in the big guns. They had to be hiding somewhere around the sink area.

"Where did I put the soap?"

Bongo patted his side of the sink where the soap had been hiding all along. It tried to escape from my hands but my grip was strong. After some serious applications, my hands changed into a sea of white cream and bubbles. It was Bongo's turn but he was more interested in its smell.

"Do you want me to help you with the soap?"

The cat shook his head.

"Mum will be upset if you don't wash your paws."

Bongo sighed, patted the soap twice and scrubbed his paws together. My hands followed his example, trying to keep up with his frantic pace.

"And now we rinse!"

The colored soap escaped my hands under the water stream. Bongo was still scrubbing his paws.

"You too!"

He sighed once more and ran his paws under the stream for a second and quickly removed them. My hands were back to their natural pinkness. While extending my arm to access the water tap my stomach was assaulted by the smooth but very cold surface of the traitorous sink. My t-shirt had gone all the way up my belly again. Once the water tap off and my t-shirt back to its proper place, it was time to wrap my hands in my old blue towel. The one with the yellow canary in the middle. I dried my hands off then offered the towel to Bongo. The cat didn't make a move, he was fixating on the yellow bird instead. Wriggling the towel made him finally pat it.

"There! Now we can eat!"

Balled up, the towel made it to the laundry basket on the first try. Bongo took his sweet time to jump on my shoulder then we were off downstairs.

The table was already set. Most of the food had been placed at the center. All it was missing was a water pitcher and Dad. Mum was already there, filling up my plate from the content of a salad bowl. After sitting down at my usual spot I let Bongo jump on the table near my plate.

"Chloe! I told you a million times: no cat on the dinner table! And please, remove your helmet."

The queen of the household moved to Dad's spot and filled up his plate with salad as well.

The dinner table was a safe zone, I could afford to leave my hat on the side. It went to the empty chair next to me. I still kept it close by, just in case. The cat issue had to be addressed. Why was he banned from the dinner table? Bongo was super clean and he was part of the family, he should have been able to eat with us as well.

"But he washed his paws and everything!"

In case Mum couldn't see it clearly from where she stood, I held Bongo's paws out.

"Don't argue with your mother, kiddo, you know she's right. At dinner time, the cat's place is on the ground or at his bowl."

Dad had appeared in the kitchen. He grabbed the pitcher from the cupboard and proceeded to fill it up in the sink. That was unfair. Poor Bongo was always left on the side. How would they feel if they had to eat on the floor while the rest of us were eating at the table? But my parent's words were law, so I had to abide by them. I preempted the announcement of bad news with some scratches on my furry friend’s favorite spot.

"Sorry, Bongo."

He was a smart cookie. He turned towards me, licked my hand once then jumped off the table. He passed through Dad's leg to go to his bowl. He sniffed it for a second then went back to my side. Unperturbed, Dad brought the pitcher, now full of water, on the table.

"By the way, kiddo, I saw your leftover painting workshop in the garage. It's good that you laid out newspapers to cover the table when you were painting but you forgot to throw them away after you were done."

That was what I'd forgotten. I should remember to completely clean after myself next time. For this time, it needed to be done immediately or else it would be forgotten before the end of dinner.

"Sorry, Dad. I'll go do that right away!"

My chair was already drawn back when Dad stopped me.

"No need, kiddo, I've already done it."

The chair silently pestered me to make up my mind but let me draw it forward again. Dad continued his speech.

"So that's an impressive hat you got there, you made it all by yourself?"

The helmet hadn't been made by me alone and keeping all the credit to myself was a bad thing. Mum had taught me that. But in this case, it would have been hard to explain, so keeping it simple was the best solution. The details were left out and they would stay out unless someone asked specifically for them.

"Not exactly, Dad. I had help."

Bongo pawed at my leg, trying to catch my attention. His bowl was still full. He probably wanted to eat our human food. My misinterpretation was made clear after waving at him. He wasn't interested in eating, he was just bored and wanted to play. He tried to catch my hand but being too fast for him he was clearly failing at it.

"If you say so."

Leaving Bongo to play by himself, my attention went back to my father. Was he going to investigate the subject further? My response had been satisfactory. He had dropped the subject and was now focusing on the contents of our plates.

"This looks delicious, we are dining like kings tonight!"

He kissed Mum on the cheek, didn't keep his eyes off her as she moved to her seat and they sat down perfectly at the same time. Had they practiced that move or had it become something natural after all these years of marriage ? Either way, it was always an impressive display. Mum rolled her eyes.

"Stop exaggerating, darling. It's a simple Caesar salad."  
"Don't sell yourself short, honey. If this recipe was good enough for the leader of the Roman Republic, it will do perfectly fine for us mere, simple folks."

He brought a fork full of salad to his mouth and chewed happily. Mum's eyes went to the ceiling. Mum and Dad had superior knowledge of all things but from time to time they had their dumb moments. That was one of these times. This mistake was so blatant that it had to be rectified immediately.

"That's not the same Caesar!"

Dad had a small smirk on his face but, of all people, it had been Mum that didn't understand where I was coming at.

"What's that, sweetie?"

She was acting all casual, sliding a glass full of water in front of me and going about to fill her own. She was the cook of the family, she should already know all that by now. It was time to educate her on the subject.

"The salad was created by _a_ Caesar and he was an Italian restaurant chef, not a Roman dictator."

All of a sudden my mouth was drier than the Sahara desert. Was it due to all the talking or because Mum had filled up my cup? It didn't matter, the water was cold but exactly what I needed.

"Oh really, kiddo? And where did you learn that wonderful bit of knowledge?"

Still smirking somehow, Dad kept on chewing at the same time.

"From one of Mum's cooking books."

Bongo hadn't moved from his spot but was looking at me with a sad face. He was now after my food. My plate was full of choices. Someone had to go. Who would it be? A bit of egg volunteered. The fork impaled it and propelled the sacrifice in front of the picky cat. He watched it land on the ground, gave it a once over and gulped it in one go. There, he wouldn't go starving anymore.

"See honey? Our little Chloe shows interest in cooking. She might be working at the Diner with you one day."  
"Oh I certainly hope not! You're smart, Chloe, please keep up with your books and stay away from the grill."

Spending all day surrounded by food. No need to consult Bongo on this one. That was his picture of a perfect future. Except for the part where you were not supposed to eat the food. But that wasn't the path that was set for me.

"Yes, Mum. I could never cook as well as you. No one can."  
"So sweet of you to say."

Mum looked reassured by my answer. Due to recently discovered events, my life had been mapped out already. As soon as my parents would know about it, they would surely stop trying to plan my future. The information had to be shared immediately.

"Anyway, when I grow up I wanna be a bombardier in the Air Force."

There. The news was out. They had no need to speculate anymore. My fork grew wings and started to fly over my plate, producing rough coughing noises. It needed its engine checked. Stat. The absence of responses from the parents was a sign my presentation had been a little short. They were waiting for more details.

"I will explode lots of Nazis!"

My fork started to cough up small pieces of bread, dropping them all over my plate. Dad was the first to react to my announcement.

"That's a very specific job… wait what? Kiddo, where did you get all that from?"

He was worriedly staring at me. Had I overshared and destroyed all the hopes and dreams they had for me in the process? Should I have kept it all to myself? Would they have preferred I become a doctor? The world was in dire need of doctors. But it was too late to back down now. Dad wanted the source of my inspiration and it would be delivered.

"It was on the news last night."

My side of the table was a mess. The pieces of bread that had landed on the table away from my plate and were gathered and ended up, one by one, in my mouth. "Waste not" Mum always said. Speaking of Mum, she wasn't so thrilled about that last bit of information.

"Nazis on the news last night… darling. Do you have something to say?"

Despite his guilt ridden face, Dad was trying to smile at Mum. Was it supposed to be a secret? This kind of big news was too important not to be shared with everyone. He tried to explain himself.

"They… are making a comeback in Arcadia Bay?"

He tried to win her over with his signature dazzling smile but she wasn't having any of it. Mum was immune to it this time and was just frowning the whole time. Dad reconsidered his strategy.

"Well, there was something about World War II on TV last night after you both went to bed…"

He took a sudden nose dive and examined his plate very carefully. Probably looking for some leftover garlic croutons. Mum sighed, shook her head at Dad and turned her attention to me.

"Chloe… first of all: last night, your father was watching one of his documentaries. You know, the kind you've been watching together since forever. This one was from a period close to our own. That's why you might have thought it was happening right now. But you have nothing to worry about. There are no more Nazis, they all disappeared many years before you were even born."

Dad was done with his plate, he wiped his mouth with a napkin then added his say on the matter.

"Well, actually if you count the neo-…"  
"Darling. This is neither the time nor the place for that."

Mum was giving Dad the evil eyes, one of the most devastating weapons in her arsenal. The first time she had used it on me after I had been very naughty… the thought made my skin shiver. Never being on the receiving end of it ever again was one of my life goals. Dad was in big trouble. He raised his arms in surrender. She continued.

"And second of all, when we say it's time to go to bed, it means it is grown-ups time. During the day it's Chloe time but at night, it is our time. You have our full attention during the day so you have to respect our time during the night. So when we say it's bedtime, you have to go to bed and stay in your room. You shouldn't be sneaking downstairs to get extra TV time. Now, promise me you won't do that again."

So there was no war going on? We were all safe? That was good news. The bad news though was that Mum was furious at me. A sigh wanted to escape my mouth but it had to be reined in. Daring to sigh now and she would have chewed my head off. I liked my head. It complimented my body very well and was a useful tool. No one should have to lose their head. My hands dropped to my lap, discovering a new hole on my poor pajamas. Having successfully avoided her stare, my hand went to my back and an answer could be finally provided.

"Yes, Mum. I promise, I won't do it again."

After uncrossing its fingers, my hand joined its sister back on the table. Lying to Mum was never a good idea but her request was just plainly unacceptable. There was no way anyone could ever abide by this rule. In general, yes, respecting Mum's rules was the best course of actions but what if a future unforeseen event would make me break it? And with the face she had been making the whole time, saying no wasn't a possibility either. She wouldn't have accepted it or this explanation. So lying was my only recourse. Perhaps she would forget about it in a few hours or forgive me the next time I would get caught breaking the promise.

"That's better. Now, finish your salad."

Mum went back to finish her salad. After all this she still had half her plate to finish. Dad was an expert at changing subjects to lower the tension whenever it started to rise.

"So I had heard there had been an accident on the main road to work this morning. I knew of a detour so I took it and I arrived only thirty minutes late. Still I was sure the boss was going to chew me down for that but to my surprise he was in his office. Apparently he had been too close to the spot of the accident on his way so he got caught in the traffic and took an extra hour to show up. Saved by the accident, am I right?"

Mum had missed the whole riveting story focused on her plate. Words were failing me. Dad wanted some feedback but nothing was coming out of my mouth.

"Okay, never mind that. So, honey, how was your day?"

To this Mum had something to say. Her plate now empty she put her fork down and answered him.

"Don't get me started on that! They apparently all decided we need to change our china set. They broke twelve mugs today! Twelve! I'll tell you what. It was a pain to…"

She droned on and on. I was a little sad to have missed the chance to explode some Nazis but knowing my future was fully open to me was comforting. No wars to restrict me anymore. Other opportunities to blow things up would surely present themselves. Whether it was by joining the Army or finding more peaceful domains that had the same potential.


	4. To the best of mates...

The first Friday of the school year had arrived, the last day before the dreaded weekend. The third grade had started with fantastic news, the school library was finally accessible. The second graders and below were deemed too young for this privilege. The administration thought they would use the precious books for their coloring exercises or something. Every book at home had already passed through my hands - well everything that my parents had allowed me to read anyway - so the school library had become my new source of knowledge. The fine people operating it were super nice but they weren't paying particular attention to what everyone was reading. There was no age restriction on the books. No one prevented me from picking up a twelfth grade Physic book. It was full of nonsense but it gave me hope. There was so much more to learn! The library was unfortunately closed during the weekend so it meant no new stuff to learn for two whole days after this one.

For once Dad hadn't been too busy and was walking me to school. It wasn't a long way from home and it was safe, having done the trip by myself once or twice already, but it was always nice to spend a bit more time with him.

"Hey, kiddo, can you tell me which company this car came from?"

Dad wanted to play the "Guess the car's logo" game - my knowledge of car company had grown significantly since we started doing that. He pointed at an oval sign with a blue background and a four-letter word printed in white on it.

"Dad! That one’s super easy, it's written on it!"  
"I wanted to see if you were still awake. Alright, how about that one?"

A ram was standing on its back legs and was making as if it was ready to fight. Its head was facing towards the words "power ram". That was a tricky one.

"That's a Dodge! But the company is Chrysler, right?"  
"That's right. And this one?"

A banner full of red squares and yellow, black, white or blue rectangles, surrounded by a laurel wreath.

"That one is a Cadillac. My turn! My turn!"  
"Alright, kiddo. Choose wisely."

All the choices in my vicinity were too easy. What was this trend to have the company name incorporated into their logo? There, a decent candidate, this one looked like the Olympics logo.

"This one!"  
"Hmm…. Volkswagen."

Incredible. For the first time since we started playing this game, Dad had finally been wrong.

"Wrong!"  
"Oh, really?"  
"Yes! It's Audi!"  
"Ah… but Audi is owned by the Volkswagen Group."  
"That's…"

Damnit! He was right. Again.

"Don't worry, kiddo. You will get the hang of it one day. What about this one?"

A lozenge or a diamond. This one was completely unknown to me.

"That one isn't American."  
"It's originally from the other side of the Atlantic."  
"Is it British?"  
"Not at all."  
"German then?"  
"You're close but that's not it."  
"I give up. What is it?"  
"Remind me tonight if you still don't know by then."  
"That will be on my mind all day!"  
"I'm sure you will find a way to figure it out. Here we are!”

There was no more time for guesses. The school front gate was right in front of us. Dad closed to the metallic structure, tapping it twice with his gloved hand.

”And here’s the gate!"

As if I couldn’t see that already! My troubles were with the pronunciation of weird words not with my vision. Dad wasn't thinking of me as a dumb person. He was probably trying to use his dad humor on me and it was going over my head. Giving my best imitation of mum, I rolled my eyes.

"I know, Dad."

He took to one knee and rested his hands on my shoulders, looking me in the eyes with his friendly smile on.

"Now, you be nice to the other kids and pay attention to the teacher. I know she is new but it's not a reason to take advantage of that, you hear me?"

The previous third grade teacher, Mrs. Reynolds, had retired at the end of last year. She had been a pillar of the school and her retirement left a huge hole. That was the right opportunity to try a year without a teacher. The school would provide us with the appropriate books and we would learn on our own. Mum had rejected my idea right off the bat. Self-teaching, as she had called it, would never happen at our school, we were far too young for this kind of thing. The administration wouldn't trust us to be by ourselves. So a new teacher had been appointed, a younger one this time, Miss Anderson. She looked even younger than Mum! The teacher had two other things going for her. She was kind and knowledgeable. People respected her so far. Unless she had been hiding some undesirable traits under her sleeves that were to be unleashed only on Fridays, she had the potential to make this year a good one.

"Don't worry, Dad. Miss Anderson can hold her own. She will be fine. But I feel off handed! Have you ever seen me take advantage of a teacher before?"  
"I think you meant offended, kiddo. But it's good to hear that she is well received. It's not always easy to start at a new position. Now give me a kiss and run in before the bell rings and you end up late. You wouldn't want to give a bad impression on your first week, would you?"

Dad let go of my shoulders and moved closer. He smelled differently this morning. Was it lemon? His cheek was clean shaved. My mouth had been all itchy after kissing him the previous evening. Not this time. The school gate was wide open, waiting just for me. Dad's grips on the back of my jacket was the last obstacle to my acquisition of new knowledge.

"Wait a minute, you are forgetting something."

He was looking at me, his arms crossed and tapping his foot on the pavement. He had been so happy a second ago, what had happened? What did I miss? His face wasn't providing any clues. Something was wrong and he wouldn't give me a hint at what it was. A full checkup was in order. My shoulder length blonde hair was properly combed in a ponytail, no knot left. A good deal of the morning had been spent on it. My clothes were all accounted for and put in the right way - no more backward shirt for me. Mum had picked my outfit out of the closet. The top and the bottom had reasonable matching colors. My shoes were on, no going to school wearing my slippers this time. The weight on my back confirmed the presence of my backpack. Dad had personally put my lunchbox into it this morning. My homework had been in there since the previous evening but Dad double-checked it before we left anyway. That wasn't that either. No other ideas came to mind. There was no point in wasting more time on the subject. He would have to tell me what it was.

"What do you mean?"  
"Chloe, you have to give me Bongo back now."

He extended his arms, hands open, towards me. The ball of fur was purring into my arms. He hadn't moved for the whole trip. He was so peaceful there like he had no care in the world.

"What? No! It's science day! Bongo said he wanted to come check it out."  
"Chloe. You do remember what the principal told us last year? He called us again last night to remind us of it and the first week isn't even over yet. He informed us that despite his warnings you were still bringing Bongo to school every day. What is it that we have to remind you of every time?"

The response required me to use my best impersonation of an automatic answering machine.

"Cats are not allowed on school property."

They had said it many times but this rule was silly. Why were they so against educating cats? Were they afraid they would become too smart for us and they would decide to overtake the government or something?

"Exactly. So your mother and I came to this arrangement, which, if you remember, you agreed to. But since you seem to have forgotten it, I'll remind you. It's okay for Bongo to keep you company on the way to school but once you are at the gate, you have to let him go. We are in front of the school now so he is coming back home with me."

More silly rules. It had been too much to hope that, after a good night's sleep, they would have seen the error of their way and let him come with me.

"But Dad, Bongo needs to learn too!"  
"Well, of course he does but he isn't registered to the school so you will have to teach him everything you learned when you come back home. And if you continue to argue with me, your mother is going to be upset and she won't even let Bongo tag along on your way to school."

Upset Mum had always been a frightening sight. It was always a smart idea to stay on her good side. Once again the grown-ups would have their way.

"Alright, Dad. Sorry, Bongo."

The cat was dropped to the ground, reluctantly. He awoke mid fall and still was able to land on his feet. He looked back at me with his big sad eyes. The battle was lost but the war wasn't over. One day the right side would prevail.

"Don't look at me like that, Dad said you couldn't come."

Bongo lowered his head and went to Dad who picked him up gently.

"Go in now! See you in a few hours and don't forget to learn something!"

"Don't worry about it, Dad!"  
"Don't forget, tonight is movie night, I've got one that I think you will like. Love you, kiddo!"  
"Love you too, Dad."

The front gate that had been patiently waiting closed right behind me in a loud clang. My time had run out. My exhausted feet reached the acceptance office right when the first bell started to ring. Who had decided to put such a long yard between the front gate and the office door? That wasn't the only fault of the school building.

The persons who designed Mel Blanc Elementary should probably have been fired on their first day of work. Despite being a building with multiple floors, all the classrooms, from Kindergarten to fifth grade, were grouped on the first one, converging on the same corridor. The first bell meant for everyone to get ready to go to class. Every student was waiting outside their respective classroom, into the same overcrowded hallway. The ones who were suffering the most from that were the agoranauts. This hallway was a total nightmare for them. Agoranauts? No, that wasn't the right word. Agoraphones? People who had an irrational fear of crowds. Mum had told me the word the other day but it was escaping me. Anyway, there was no way to hide for them. Well perhaps the bathroom, if they weren't claustrophobe as well… Agoraphobes. That was the right word!

Anyway, even without any particular phobias, entering the corridor was still an overwhelming experience. The sheer volume of noise going on around me was too much. People screaming for no reason, shouting at each other just to be heard and to tell the others trivial things like how their nights went. Some were constantly tapping their feet on the floor, banging against their lockers or clapping their hands. Focusing on anything was a hard task. They were trying to improvise their own eclectic concert. Others were just trying to start fights, for fun or even real ones, in the closed space bumping into bystanders in the process provoking the occasional ouch or hey. And to top it all off, the fourth graders had music class, half of them saw these few minutes of rest as an opportunity to practice on their recorders. Or perhaps they were just trying to see who could produce the most horrible sound. Why didn’t Mum allow me to bring some earplugs to school? Using them during class had never been my intention. Why was she still bringing that up as her main reason?

A deep breath was required before starting the morning challenge. Fighting my way to my classroom was unavoidable since it was located, lucky me, right in the middle of the corridor. One would think being in a class one year older would make the task easier but nothing had changed in this regard. People were still ignoring little me. Navigating the masses without bumping into too many people left me exhausted but my classmates were finally on sight. Despite the ambient noise, my ears couldn't help but focus on the end of a weird conversation between two of my classmates. Well, a weird conversation coming from anyone else but coming from these two? It had become the norm.

"I swear, it's true. They are all inside your body, they breathe your oxygen and they live off the food they steal from your belly."

Jenny MacCormick. The youngest of four siblings. She loved playing with her ginger hair while explaining how life worked to the people rotating around her. Her only problem was she often had it wrong, not that it had ever bothered her. There had been a small presentation on an epidemic of tapeworms on TV the previous night, she might have been regurgitating its contents or perhaps she had seen a show about constipation theory that talked about aliens or something, who could be sure with her? Constipation theory? That didn't sound right…

"Really? How come I don't feel them then?"

Gregory Moose. Single child, just like me, and usually very gullible. At the moment, either he had grown a new brain the previous night or he had finally found the on button. He was starting to question things. Good for him! He had found something in her story that he was having a hard time swallowing.

"Well, they are usually very quiet unless you upset them, then they run around inside your tummy until it hurts really bad, that's how you get stomach aches."

My expertise on Biology was lacking - Physics and Chemistry were more my things - but it all sounded like horses-poop. Dad had used another variant of this word one day but Mum had been so furious at him that he made sure to always use this one instead afterwards.

"Wow, nobody ever told me that!"  
"Well, now you know."

And he had bought it, he was back to his normal dumb self. Jenny looked pleased to not be questioned on the subject, she never really liked when people were trying to go too deep into this superficial subjects she was always coming with. As if she had been waiting for this specific conversation to be over, Miss Anderson popped her head out from the classroom door, with her round metallic glass and her very particular smile. The first time I saw it the only word that came to mind was cute. Was it a normal thing?

"Alright everyone! Line up and then you may enter."

Her head popped back in while my classmates formed a neat line in front of the door and entered the room two by two. One thing to learn in this school is that each classroom looked the same and beside the fact that it was the first week of the school year, the morning routine had always been the same to the point that it was kicking in automatically by now. My designated place was on the front row by the window, my backpack went on the side of the desk and my behind on the chair. The next step of the process was supposed to be retrieving my pencil case and my notebook from my backpack but this time something made me go back in manual mode. My behind had expected wood and plastic but had met something else instead. It wasn't sticky but it was still worth a checkout. The intruder was an ex-crumpled-now-flattened piece of paper. There was no way it would have ended up here randomly, this paper had been carefully planted there for me to find. It was safe to sit down now. Un-crumpling the piece of paper took a second and its content was barely worth the effort. A single word. Derp. Oh Poetic, such a refined message could only have come from one person: Chris Robertson. He had to be dealt with. The weasel sat at the opposite side of the room. He was openly pointing at me while making a mocking face. Mum said that getting too excited this early in the morning wasn't good for my health but my inside were starting to boil up good. The piece of paper took back its previous balled up form. The teacher was writing something about animals on the blackboard. She had her back safely turned away. It was now or never. The paper ball flew at great speed towards its creator. The projectile hit him square on the head then finished its course on his desk.

No, Ma'am, I know nothing about any paper ball. I was preparing for class this whole time. I never turned away from my desk. Dammit. My desk was still suspiciously empty. My morning ritual had been interrupted and all my things were still in my backpack. Two arm movements, and my equipment was spread out in front of me. My science book opened on a page describing something about frogs. It wasn't today's lesson but the teacher hadn't noticed so it didn't matter. My desk was still a mess, the pencils shouldn't be on the right side of the table and not placed in this order. After a quick adjustment, all was right with the world. The morning sun was showing its head. It was right on time. Its ray usually reflected against the peaceful yard and flooded the whole room but this time, the yard wasn't as peaceful as expected. With the teacher focusing on the board, it was the opportunity to investigate the disturbance. The school janitor was in the courtyard, running with a broom in his hands. He stopped below the basketball hoop. The next sight brought a smile to my face. Perched on said hoop was a familiar white and grey cat. Bongo hadn't gone home with Dad after all, he must have ditched him on their way back or perhaps he went all the way there to make sure that Dad was safely home first and then went back. He had apparently found the perfect spot to oversee his new domain. He didn't look bothered at first by the janitor's antics until the broom made a pass too close to his face. He looked annoyed by the tool, trying to make it go away by patting at it. The effort was fruitless. His vantage point was too compromised so he chose to change venues. Bongo jumped on the broom then continued on the custodian's shoulder, down his back, landed on the tarmac and quickly disappeared from the opposite direction the janitor came in. Said custodian took a few seconds to compose himself then ran after him.

"Children! Children! If I could have your attention please?"

Miss Anderson was ready to start the day's lesson. All eyes were now either on the teacher or the blackboard. Gregory threw his hand up. The lesson hadn't started but he had already something to say. This kid couldn't stand still for more than a minute.

"Ma'am? Ma'am?"  
"Yes, Mr. Moose?"  
"I have a question about science stuff."

Perhaps this time he would be keeping with the current lesson theme? One could always dream, right?

"I would never refuse any questions about science. You have the floor. What is your question?"  
"Is it true there are tiny people living inside all of us?"  
"What do you mean?"

Not this again. The palm of my hand hid my face. Perhaps if no one wasn't looking at him, he would simply disappear, and take his stupid questions along with him. Miss Anderson was at a loss for words, she wasn't probably expecting this. Gregory went on trying to explain his earlier conversation.

"Yes, huh… How did you call them again?"

He had turned towards Jenny, calling her over. She rolled her eyes. Perhaps she had hoped to get some rest during this morning lesson or he was just preventing her from redoing her nails or something. But she had the attention of the whole class and the teacher’s as well, so she couldn't miss the opportunity to show off her knowledge.

"I told you two minutes ago and you forgot already… My brother said they are called Jim or Tony or something like that."

His blood had finally reached his brain. Gregory was able to recollect his memory. He addressed the teacher once more.

"Ah yes! We have tons of little Tonys living in our body and they run around doing stuff and…"

The pair had been a pain in my bottom for two years now. It was always the same thing with them. The duo would keep disrupting the class with their stupid questions. The teacher was nice but she was too permissive towards questions, never preventing anyone from expressive themselves, always trying to find a way to transform a question into a lesson. At least that was what she had done successfully during the whole week. But these two hadn't started their circus this year and there was no way she was up for the task. They could go on and on until the bell for recess rung and that would be a whole morning wasted. Their strategy had unfortunately worked on our previous teacher and Miss Anderson was taking the bait as well. Interacting with my classmates had never been my strong suit, it never ended up well for me so I hadn't intervened in the past but something had to be done. Wanting a normal science class this year was apparently too much to ask for. Their shenanigans were going too far. Someone had to break the pattern. My first assumption had been wrong. They weren't talking about tapeworms at all.

"Atoms. They are called atoms and they are just small particles that you can't see individually, with your own eyes at least, but when grouped together, they make up… well everything."

The speed at which the facts had come out of my mouth surprised me a little. I had opened a can of worms that I would probably never close again but it had to be done. Miss Anderson's eyes were wide behind her glasses. She finally understood what this was all about. She followed up addressing the whole class but focusing more towards Gregory and Jenny.

"Your classmate is right, Miss MacCormick. I'm afraid you misunderstood what your brother said. This is a complicated subject that you shouldn't have to worry about for now. All you have to understand is that there are no tiny people living inside you. That only happens in the movies."

If by people, she was meaning living things then she was forgetting about all the germs and microbes. Informing her of her omission would have to wait, she had turned in my direction and was addressing me.

"Miss Price, pray tell, where did you learn about atoms? We are not supposed to cover this subject for another two years."

I had spent my first day of unrestricted library access looking up every books on the subject of blowing things up. To be fair, my research list was full of interesting topics but since explosions had been a fascinating subject of mine for so long it had to be my first focus. After a few hours of looking through every title available, the house of knowledge only provided me with one book related to explosives. It was called "First step into Chemistry". The famous atoms had all been mentioned in an organized fashion they had called the Periodic Table. Immediately borrowing it, the chemistry book had been my bedside reading material since then. Of course mentioning my interest in explosives might be misinterpreted. The information that had to be divulged would have to be filtered first.

"I read about it in a book. It was a bit hard to get my head around it at first but then Bongo came and helped me make sense of it all. He is smart like that."  
"I am happy to know you are showing interest in science, Miss Price. And it's good that you have someone to share your passion with. Is this Bongo going to school here? I don't recall seeing his name in the student's listing and I know you don't have any siblings."

Even the teacher thought Bongo was going to school here, she would probably agree that he should be allowed to enroll as well. Or was she saying that only because she thought Bongo was a human? That was probably it. She was like all the rest of them. He had been there for every important part of my life so far. He wasn’t a mere cat. He was my friend, my confidant and accomplice. He meant the world to me. How come no one was getting it? There had to be a way to make them all understand.

"Of course not. Bongo is my cat! He is my best friend and we do everything together."

The whole classroom fell silent for a moment then the students started talking among themselves and throwing glances at me. Some of them were even straight up gawking at me like I had grown a second head or something. Chris was making signs at Jenny all the while pointing at me.

"Chloe's best friend is a cat!"

That was my whole point. There was nothing wrong with that, right? Apparently everyone else thought otherwise. The whole classroom exploded in laughter. The hysterical aura was irresistible.

"Alright, everyone. Settle down now."

The only voice of reason was coming from Miss Anderson and even she had a hard time maintaining her professional composure. She didn't last ten seconds. She broke down and let a giggle out.

The pattern had been broken but the results had been far from expectations. A small tear ran down my cheek. My heart was being compressed under a mountain of pressure. It was about to explode at any moment. My natural instinct kicked in. It was telling me to escape this situation. My hands gripping my desk were the only things preventing my legs from getting up and running out of the classroom. But Reason had to prevail. Running now would mean never being able to come back in class ever again. The option of faking a pee break lasted two seconds at the top of my brain before it was discarded. The class had just started, Miss Anderson would never allow it. There was only one reasonable thing to do: staying put and enduring. That was my burden for the next hour. My hand let go of the desk and landed back on the science book. My back straightened out against the chair. My body had to stay in this room but my mind didn't have this physical restriction. There was no trace of my best friend in the yard anymore. If he had been here with me, he would have known exactly what to do to recover from this situation. This whole thing was absurd. Yes, my best friend was a cat and there was no shame in that. My fellow humans had deeply disappointed me once again. Why did I keep expecting better from them? It didn't matter, who needed humans anyway? All I had tried to do was to enlighten them and how had they responded? They had mocked me and my cat. The world wasn't ready for our epic duo. But this was nothing, a strong girl like myself would survive this. One day, my cat and I would accomplish something truly awesome. We would show them. We would show them all the errors of their ways. The only thing left to do was being patient, wait and bide my time for now.


	5. …And good times

"Ding-dong! The witch is dead! Which old witch? The Wicked Witch. Ding-dong, the Wicked Witch is dead!"

It was that time of the year where the deformed, the weirdos and the non-standard people can freely walk out in the open. If someone had something special that didn't quite fit the image of the average Jane our society was trying to make us all abide by, they could show it to everyone without fear of being discriminated against. It was the normal people that had to disguise themselves now. But in a bizarre coincidence, it was also the day most revered by dentists; because this day would bring them the most business of the year during the following weeks. It was Halloween and it was time to hunt some candies!

The candy hunting party was gathering downstairs and only two members were unaccounted for. The first missing member had been waiting upstairs in my bedroom. I danced all the way to the bed while singing as loudly as possible. One twirl later, Mr. Sharkie was in my arms. He was my favorite shark but he would never hear it from me or it would go to his head. I was giddy with glee, I couldn't help it, I had to sing.

"Ding-dong!"

The last member of our expedition wasn't in my room but he couldn’t be far away. The parents had left their bedroom door partially open which was odd since they usually close it when they are not inside. Dad was supposed to be at work and, last time I'd checked, Mum was busy downstairs. The missing one never went into this room by himself so there wasn't any real reason for him to be there this time around but it was better to check it anyway just to be sure. Three steps forwards, one to the left, a twirl and the door was opening in front of me. My torso was trying to stand still while my legs were moving all around. It was an impressive display but no one was appreciating my dance moves. Mr. Sharkie was too busy staring at my t-shirt, he didn't mind being transported upside down like that. The wardrobe had been unmoved by my performance, staying closed in its corner and the neatly done bed had been unimpressed as well, it didn't move a sheet or anything. That didn't stop me from continuing. Since no one was interested here, I just had to dance my way to the bathroom. That would surely provide me with better results. Right before I left the doorway, the bed finally decided to manifest its interest. It spawned the end of a hairy tail that went swinging slowly back and forth. Exactly who I was looking for.

"The witch is dead!"

Twirling my way inside the room left me a bit exhausted, all this dancing was finally getting to me. The chair by the window was exactly what I needed to rest for a while. Mr. Sharkie found a comfy spot on the window sill. He had a good view of the outside. Bongo chose this moment to poke his head out from his hiding place; he hesitated a few seconds, probably making sure the area was safe, then ran to me and jumped on my lap. He tried to remove his new headgear by scratching it but I'd made sure to properly fix it on so it didn't work. He gave up and decided to get himself ready for a nap instead. Fall was in full swing, gone were the sunny days of summer and Dad hadn't upped the thermostat quite yet, so the extra warmth on my legs was very welcomed. Mr. Sharkie had had the best idea. Observing the outside world was a good way to pass the time while regenerating my energy.

My parents were lucky, they had this giant room, at least twice the size of mine, and had the best view. They could see the street from there. My room was only offering the garden view. Boring. The street was swarmed by people wearing all kinds of crazy costumes. A couple of zombies were walking around surrounded by an army of little werewolves and vampires. Three small Santa elves were chasing after a very fat fairy. A troll, a ghost and a firefighter were knocking at my neighbor's front door from across the street. The hunt had already begun and I couldn't wait to join them all. But Mum had to finish our costumes first and with Dad still not here, we couldn't go yet. I had to be patient. But what better to wait than singing out loud my new favorite song. I just wished I had learned the rest of the lyrics.

"Ding-dong! The witch is dead!"

My friend was with me now. He would certainly want to sing along. My expectant stare would have perfectly conveyed my intent if he hadn't had both his eyes closed. He was quietly resting on my lap. That wouldn't do. My staring had to be intensified but not too much or else he would end up with a hole in his skull. And it worked. He opened one eye, focusing it on me for a second and closed it again. He was playing hard to get. My back bent over a little to let my mouth whisper the magical words directly into my ball of fur's ears.

"Ding-dong! The witch is dead!"

Bongo opened both eyes this time and sighed.

"Which old witch?"

I knew he would sing along with me! The next verse flowed out of my mouth while Bongo made as if he was going back to his nap.

"The Wicked Witch! Ding-dong, the Wicked Witch is dead!"

Mum shouted from downstairs.

"Chloe! I'm ready. Could you come down please?"

She was finally done with our costumes. It was time to find out the result of her countless hours on the sewing machine. Mum was like a superhero when it came to this subject, she could grab a needle and some thread and make about anything with it. Dad had tried to make the machine work once and all he had been able to do with it was sewing his cuff to his tie.

Nothing would have made me happier than to keep Bongo in my arms while heading downstairs but Mr. Sharkie still had trouble navigating the air on his own. The fur ball traded his place with the handicapped predator without complaining. He followed us all the way down.

Mum was waiting in the living room with a magnificent pink and white dress in her arms. This Glinda the Good witch costume was perfect. It looked very much like the one in the movie. I approached Mum with anticipation. My whole body bounced on each step that brought me closer to this wonder. I couldn't wait to wear it. Mr. Sharkie joined the rest of our friends on the sofa. They were all very happy to finally see him. As soon as my hands let go of Mr. Sharkie, they flew towards Mum.

"Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!"  
"Hold on, young lady! You won't be able to get into your dress on your own. Let me help you with that. Extend your arms in front of you, please."

My arms were straightened up forward as far as possible, forming a perfect perpendicular angle with the rest of my body. Holding still while keeping this form up was a challenge when all my legs wanted to do was bounce around. Mum held the dress by the shoulder and opened it completely. She adjusted the position of the arms' holes to match my hands position and moved forward making me slid into the dress.

"Good. There we are. Perfect. I'll lace you up now."

Mum walked behind me and started closing the dress. She was right. My arms were too small to reach behind my back like that. There was no doubt as to who would be the best Glinda out there! It was going to be epic! Epic! Epic! Epic! I couldn't help myself, I had to bounce up and down.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! It's gonna be awesome!"  
"Please! Stop moving so much, you're not helping me."

Mum had stopped buttoning me up but she had been only half way done. She was probably waiting for me to calm down. My legs held still long enough for Mum to continue lacing me up. Even without me jumping around, she had trouble finishing the job. Those rebelling laces were trying to fight back! But Mum was the best so she prevailed in the end.

"There! All done. Wait! Where is your hat?"

Not wanting to get damaged during the gathering of my people, it was safely waiting for me on the coffee table in front of the sofa. And no one had moved it from its spot. With the paper crown settled down on my head, my costume was complete.

"Let me look at you. Give me a spin."

It was the opportunity to verify whether my head was holding the crown properly or not. A quick spin didn't throw the crown off. The second spin was a slow one to let my mother see the glorious result of her work.

"You are gorgeous!"

The third spin that followed was just for my own amusement. My last spin was done but the world continued to rotate around me. It was time for a little break. Holding on to Mum was the fastest way to stop myself from falling down. The fact that she was getting a hug at the same time was an added bonus.

"Thanks, Mum! You're the best mum ever!"

Mum was an excellent cook, the best in the world even, and she was very skilled at sewing. As my neighbor would say, I was very blessed to have her as my mum.

"You are quite welcome!"

If the big smile on her face was any indication, Mum was very proud of the result. But that wasn't the only thing she had been working on.

"Okay, it's your turn now! Where is your dress?"

Her dress was not on the living room table. Mum had kept me out of her sewing area while she had been working on it but if she had followed the original design, it wouldn't be difficult to figure out what the dress looked like. There was no doubt it would be as wonderful as mine.

"It's still on the kitchen table, let me grab it. This time it's your turn to help me with the laces. You do remember how to do them, right?"  
"Of course!"

One had to go in then around the other and… in again… and… the whole process would come back to me, that wasn't a problem. It was the best day ever. We were all going to look so cool. I couldn't help but bounce around some more. In a few moments Mum would allow me to see what she had made for herself. My costume had been perfect but hers had to be even better. Mum came back holding a smooth piece of black fabric in her hand. Somehow, it was shining. Shining so much! Had it been silk? It couldn’t be. Silk is very expensive. Mum loved Halloween as much as Dad or me but she wouldn't spend that much on a costume. My silly thought evaporated as Mum unfolded the fabric, revealing it to be a long black dress. She slid into it, went to one knee and turned to expose her naked back to me.

"Chloe? A little help please?"

Mum really was the master of the needle, her dress looked exactly like the original. I was so flabbergasted at how good it was it immediately made me stop bouncing. So many silver rings to fill in, it would take me hours. My brain was at a loss as to what to do but so my hands took over. Muscle memories Dad had called it. My fingers glided smoothly along the laces of her dress. They twisted and turned until the whole dress was closed. It had been done in a record time for sure! The dress flawlessly suited Mum’s form. The only thing that still troubled me was her naked head.

"And I'm all done with the laces! Now please, please, tell me, where is the hat? You didn't forget about the hat, right?"

The dress had to be perfect but the hat…The hat was the most important part of the costume. Without the hat, the costume would be completely different and, in my opinion, that was totally unacceptable. The fact that she hadn't brought the hat out first might be an indication that she wasn't as committed to the character as she should be.

"Did I make the hat? Let's see…"

As Mum was pondering where she had put the hat or if she had even made one, a ping of anxiety traveled through my whole body. She was kidding. She had to be kidding. There was no way she would have forgotten about the hat. She couldn't do that to me. I looked at her with round pleading eyes. She met my eyes for a second then she provided the real answer.

"Don't worry, sweetie. Of course I didn't forget the hat! It's the most iconic part of the costume."

She moved swiftly into the kitchen and was back again in no time with a beautiful pointed black hat on her head. She had also brought an old broom with her.

"There. How do I look?"

My mouth was wide open but nothing was coming out. Mum had transformed into the Wicked Witch of the West. She looked just like her! If she had worn green paint on her face, running from the room screaming would have probably been an appropriate reaction. But she had never been fond of heavy make-up. So no running for me, just some intense gawking. I really had no words.

A wave of soft fur brushed my leg. Bongo walked slowly towards the Wicked Witch and sniffed at her robe. He probably couldn't recognize her anymore and needed a smell check to identify her. His curiosity apparently satisfied, he moved to the sofa and sat next to Mr. Sharkie.

Mum was the first to break the magical but very silent mood that had invaded the room.

"Looks like it did the trick."

She did a spin of her own. She had been able to do a full round without bumping the broom against any of the surroundings. Mum was so graceful and she looked perfect in her costume. Her demonstration required a standing ovation. Well, being already standing up, that just ended into a normal ovation.

"Mum! It's gonna be the best Halloween ever!"  
"Better than last year? It will be hard to top that one."  
"This one's gonna blow last year's away easily, you'll see!"  
"I'll hold you to that. We just have to wait for the others to arrive. Your father should have left work by now. He must still be on the road. And…"

The sewing master glanced at her watch.

"When did you say your friends were coming over?"

What was she talking about? They were already here. What had I said to her? My exact words were my friends would be coming with me. She might have interpreted something differently.

"Oh yes, my friends… Well... That's the thing. They are already here!"

My friends were still waiting patiently on the sofa. Mr. Sharkie was hugging Bongo. Margaret was observing Beth who was very interested in something on the side of the sofa. The rest were being shy but they were probably stunned by Mum's handiwork. The Wicked Witch's smile faltered for a second.

"Chloe. You told me you had friends from school coming with us."

Had I really said from school? Why would I ever say that? Mum was not a liar, my memory must have been failing. She had me there. How to get out of this mess? The term from school could be interpreted in different ways, playing it as a technicality was an option. To make it more believable, my explanation would have to be delivered with the most genuine smile possible.

"Yeah, well. I bring them to school with me… sometimes… That still counts, right?"

Beth was trying to reach for the object of her interest. If she continued bending this way, she was going to fall off the couch. No one else had noticed beside Margaret. But Margaret was Margaret, she probably took pleasure in watching her best friend fall and had no intention of moving a muscle to rescue her. Someone else had to do it. Aka me.

"Oh, Chloe. You could have told us. You said one of your friends was going as Dorothy. Wouldn't you have preferred to go as her instead? I would have been happy to switch to Glinda."

There! Beth was safe once again. And now Margaret, no doubt faking to be distraught by the situation, was holding her tightly. But what was Mum talking about? Nothing had changed. Why would I ever want to go as Dorothy? Couldn't she see that the role was already taken? An explanation was in order.

"Oh no. No, no. Look. See? Margaret wanted to go as Dorothy."

The Dorothy cosplayer was of course wearing the famous white and blue dress and ruby slippers. Making ruby slippers that would fit into her plastic feet had been a challenge but I was proud of my work.

"We can't have two Dorothys now, can we? And her fiancé, Sergeant Roger, wanted to be Toto, of course."

Sergeant Roger was the army man resting next to his fiancé, looking cute in his ball of black wool. Mum probably thought that he was jealous of Beth for getting all his girl's attention at the moment. But these two had always been like that. He had gotten over it a long time ago.

"Beth had to be the tin man."

I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes. Beth had the most ridiculous costume, made of TP rolls painted in metallic grey. She was the one who came up with the design. She wanted to make it herself but in the end I had to do nearly all the work. Thomas was going as a member of the Lollipop Guild but with his long striped socks, his hair full of gel and the sucker taped to his mouth, there was no need for introduction. Mum had already figured it out.

"And I gave Bongo the choice between the Cowardly Lion and one of the flying monkeys. He told me he wasn't so good with heights so he went with the lion."

Bongo waved his new mane around and roared majestically at us, witches. He was doing it all wrong. We had seen the movie together countless times. He knew perfectly well who the character was. Why hadn't he still gotten it?

"He still hasn't grasped the cowardly portion of the job, though."

He gave me an annoyed glance and went back to licking his paws.

"And Dad told me last night he hadn't yet decided between the Wizard and the Scarecrow. I hope he will be ready when he comes back. Did he give you any indication on which one he had chosen yet?"

Mum must have known by now, since she was no doubt the one who made his costume. Or was she? Perhaps this year Dad had decided to make his own costume… What a catastrophe that would be.

"I'm sure he will have decided by now. But sweetie, why did I have to be the Wicked Witch? Do you really think I am that mean to you?"

A sad frown was planted on her face. What did she mean about being mean?

"No, Mum, you don't get it! See, the Wicked Witch of the West has the most awesome powers, she can talk to animals and summon them and control them; they do everything she commands them to! She's a strong leader, feared yes, but also respected by her subjects. She has the most epic laugh, no one can come close to it! And she had the most important role in the movie. Could you imagine what would have happened if she had never been there? The Wicked Witch of the East would have been totally controlling her part of the country and would be too busy to be idling under a falling house. Or Dorothy would have just crushed the witch and danced a little then gone back home after Glinda the Good Witch arrived. That would have been for a very short and boring movie! The Wicked Witch of the West is the most awesome character and since you are the most awesome mum there is, the costume had to be yours."  
"Ah… well… thank you I guess."

Mum was blushing a little, which was so uncharacteristic coming from the Wicked Witch. It was clear in her face that she wasn't completely grasping the awesomeness of the character that had been chosen for her. She moved past me and went to inspect each of my friends carefully, stopping in front of the water predator.

"Uh… What about this one? Which character is he supposed to be going as?"

She was pointing at the terror of the ocean that must have been feeling naked by now without any costume on. His choice, not mine.

"Oh, Mr. Sharkie doesn't do costumes, not his style you see. He is just coming along to keep an eye on the others, to make sure they don't misbehave."

Mum readjusted her hat that had fallen down her face during the inspection.

"I see. But seriously Chloe, didn't you tell us you had made a friend at the start of school?"

She was probably referring to Chris… What a mistake trying to make friends with him ended up to be.

"If you can call THAT a friend…"

I rolled my eyes. Even merely remembering this guy existed was sapping my good spirit. The smile that had been stuck to my face the whole day was literally turning upside down. Mum noticed immediately, she approached and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Oh, sweetie. What happened?"  
"Well, there was a boy. I talked to Christ on the first day and he seemed to like dinosaurs but then the next day he threw some rocks at me during recess and called me a poopy head."  
"Boys, boy, boys…"

Mum rolled her eyes but didn’t stop me.

"Then something silly happened during science class and Miss Anderson laughed at me and everybody in the class laughed with her. Then during recess, Chris came to me and told me I was weird and he didn't want to talk to me anymore."

My noise had started to run midway into my explanation. The only option in sight to make it stop was to use my sleeves. My Glinda dress didn't deserve that but the t-shirt below it would do.

"Are you sure she laughed at you?"

She? Chris was not a girl… Oh, right, she was talking about the teacher. It sucked because I really started to like her.

"Yes. I saw her giggle and everything."  
"I'll have to talk to her about it during the next parent-teacher conference. And I'm sure the boy will soon have forgotten all about it, they are fickle like that. You will be back to being friends again in no time."

Mum took out a paper napkin from a tissue box that had materialized out of nowhere and handed it to me. It was sweet that she was trying to cheer me up but it wasn't working.

"Well, he might forget about it but I'm sure I won't. He made fun of Bongo, I don't want to talk to him anymore either!"

My nose blew into the napkin making the biggest trumpet sounds. A few more blows and my nose was dry once again. What was left of the poor tissue went into the kitchen metal trash bin. The lid of the bin closed, making a strong squeaking noise. That wasn't the metallic clank expected from a proper trash can. It had come from the front door.

"Darlings, I'm home!"

Was it a squirrel? Was it a plane? No, it was Super Dad, making his entrance into the corridor.

"Daddy!"

The hallway took three steps to reach. The welcoming arms of my father, only one.

"Wow there, princess!"

He embraced me tightly for a few seconds then put me back down. He went to the coat hanger to hang his flat cap. For once he hadn't added the little in front of princess. Was it because he was referencing my costume and he had just made a mistake? This query had to be investigated.

"I'm not a princess, I'm a witch!"  
"Of course, you are!"

His answer didn’t help me at all. Was he just humoring me or had he just realized who I was supposed to be? So many questions and no more time to get the answers for them. We were starting to run late and Dad had just barely hung his coat. He was so far from ready.

"Where is your costume, Dad?"  
"Gimme a minute to settle down first, kiddo. It's in a safe place and I'm going to retrieve it right away."

He kissed me on the forehead and ran upstairs. Only a few more minutes and the candy hunt would start. Oh. I had hogged Dad for myself. Mum had to be warned.

"Mum! Mum! Daddy's home!"

My early giddy mood was back. My legs were ready to run all over the living room.

"I heard it, sweetie."  
"Mum? Which costume is he gonna pick?"  
"I don't know, Chloe. I might be the best witch in the Land of Oz but I still can't see the future. We will have to wait just a few more minutes to discover it together. A wise man said: Patience is a virtue."

So Mum hadn't made his costume. Perhaps he had bought one on his way home? It better fit well with the theme. That was strange because he used to love having Mum make his costume for him. Mum was looking towards the kitchen table.

"And a clean kitchen gives a clean conscience. And in case you were wondering, I came up with this one on my own."

I couldn't stay in place, I had to do something. Dad wouldn't let us down, if he hadn't got his costume from Mum, it was probably because he wanted to surprise us with an extraordinary one, not because he didn't care. He always cared. Halloween was his favorite holiday, well perhaps after Christmas but we always dressed up for Halloween. He wouldn't abandon this tradition and come down with something bad like lame green sport pants and a sticker with "I'm the wizard of Oz" written on it. That was me being silly again, I was overanalyzing the whole situation. Everything would be fine. More than fine. Awesome even. We would be the family with the best costume in the street.

My legs had been automatically running around the sofa for some reason. Mum wasn't in the living room anymore. She had said something about the kitchen… There she was. Tidying up her sewing materials. Dad was taking his sweet time putting on his costume. Running around the sofa was singing at the top of my lung was the best way to pass the time.

"Ding-dong! The witch is dead!"

My laps around the sofa were going so fast, I could only see fractions of pictures from Mum in the kitchen. One moment she was putting her long needles in the sewing kit then the next one she had her hands to her own ears. Perhaps she was getting tired of the song but I sure wasn't. I laughed and continued on my merry-go-round.

"Ding-dong! The witch is dead! Which old witch? The Wicked…"

A horrible vision made me stop cold in my tracks. Dad was back from upstairs. He had a choice between the Wizard of Oz and the Scarecrow and he had chosen neither. A lot of things could have gone wrong. There could have been a sewing accident preventing Mum from finishing his costume. Or he could have picked the wrong shade of green of the Wizard or the hay could have not held on in place for the Scarecrow. But this time, Dad had gone beyond that.

"So what do you think?"

He was standing in the corridor in an old grey robe underneath a grey woolen cape. A grey pointed hat was sitting on top of his head. And to finish the whole thing, he was sporting a long white beard. He had one hand behind his back while the other was holding a wooden staff. He lifted up his chest proudly and cleared his throat.

"Uh… Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!"

There was no way Mum had anything to do with that. He should really have asked for her help. He had made the biggest mistake of his life.

"Dad! That's not the Wizard of Oz! That's your Gandalf's costume from last year!"  
"But they are both wizards, that's the same thing right?"

How could he have mixed up the two? They had nothing in common! Was he getting so old his brain didn't work properly anymore?

"Dad! No! That's… that's… No!"

Dad was just staring at me with a big smile on his face while the world was ending. His brain was definitely broken beyond repair at this point. Halloween was cancelled. Mum had to call for an ambulance to get him to the hospital immediately. Perhaps the damage to his brain wasn't permanent and they would be able to fix him up. One thing was certain. This year's Halloween was all ruined. Mum wasn't moving towards the phone but she would surely do so in a moment. It was time to take one last look at my now senile Dad before the paramedic arrived to take him away. He was inspecting his outfit as if he couldn't understand the problem with it. He cleared his throat and was ready to say something else.

"Oh well, I guess I'll go with plan B then."

My soon-to-be-in-the-grave father set his staff against the wall, tore off his beard and placed it on his staff. He removed his hat and set it on the beard. His hidden hand revealed its content: a brown straw hat that flew right on his head. He then proceeded to remove his cape and robe to show he had been wearing his Scarecrow costume underneath it from the start. My jaw was trying to reach the ground but it still had some feet to travel.

"Honey, you nearly gave her a heart attack!"

The Wicked Witch was laughing from behind the sofa. Halloween was saved after all. His costume was perfect. There was no way Mum didn't have a hand in it. They had played a trick on me and I ran blindly into it. That was a good one.

"Daddy! You're the best!"

I jumped into his arms once again and hugged him as tight as I could.

"I know, I know."

He put me down and quickly took his hat off to fix a loose straw. The clock was starting to run very late.

"We have to go now, people outside have already started. If we don't go now, we will miss all the candies!"  
"Don't worry, kiddo. A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to. That goes as well for his family."

The Scarecrow had its hat on once more but he was speaking like Gandalf.

"Dad! Please, stop!"

He just kept on smiling. He winked at Mum.

"Are we all here?"

Mum nodded.

"Alright. I see that we are all ready to go now. Hmm… It's starting to get a bit dark outside, we might need flashlights. We wouldn't want to trip over our feet and spill all our candies on the ground now, wouldn't we?"  
"I'll go get them."

Mum was moving towards the living room cupboard. It was time for my friends to leave the sofa.

"I will ready the rest of the gang."

The little wooden wagon Dad had made the previous winter was the perfect tool for our expedition, it was able to hold all my friends and some more. They set themselves one by one into the vehicle without complaining. Our walking formation was all mapped out. The wagon would be in the front with Dorothy and the Tin Man leading it. The Cowardly Lion would be walking on my right and The Scarecrow on my left. This way the whole Dorothy party would be walking along the yellow brick road all together. Keeping the Wicked Witch away from the Scarecrow would be too much to ask but that wasn't important. And Bongo had to ruin it all. He jumped in the wagon, between Toto and the Munchkin, making himself comfortable. He was content to be carried by me. So much for Cowardly Lion, more like Lazy Lion.

"Found them."

Mum was waving a couple of flashlights in the air while closing the cupboard. She pocketed one, went back to Dad and presented him the other one.

"For you I have prepared this. In this is caught the light of Eärendil's star. It will shine still brighter when night is about you."

Looked like Mum had caught the same bug that Dad had. He laughed while accepting the gift and kissed Galadriel-hidden-in-a-Wicked-Witch-costume on the cheek.

"Hello, honey."  
"Mum! Not you too!"

My lips thrusted forward in typical pouting fashion but went right back to their smiling formation when Dad approached me and started playing with my hair, displacing my crown in the process. Mum was giggling which, once again, was way out of character coming from the Wicked Witch.

"Sorry, sweetie. I couldn't help myself."  
"But first, a picture is in order to immortalize your beautiful costumes."

The man made of straw had retrieved a camera from behind him and was asking us to squeeze all together. Mum joined me behind the wagon, holding me by the shoulder. My mouth opened wide, letting my teeth out, held together in my most pleasing smile.

"Perfect, now everyone says Uruk-hai!"  
"Dad!"

Dad had tricked me once again. There was no time to rectify my facial expression. The blinding light of the camera flashed and the picture was done. Dad shook the Polaroid picture a few times then gave it to me to judge if it was worthy of a place in our collection or if it could be thrown out in the garbage bin immediately. The family pictures book was serious business. This picture had to be closely investigated. Despite Dad's last-second joke, my face was surprisingly acceptable. Mum had one of the biggest smiles ever on her face. Even Bongo was looking towards the camera. This picture was perfect.

"So what's the verdict? Collection or trash can?"

It was definitely one for the collection but the book was far away, if he had wanted to store it right away, we would be even more late. I had to get back at him for his joke. I put the picture face down on the table. The Polaroid had enough time to cool down by now, that shouldn't damage it.

"Uh… I'm not sure yet. I'll decide when we come back."

Dad had a quick laugh about it.

"You sure are keeping us on our toes! Alright, let's go shakedown some Munchkins and grab all the candies we can get!"

He stowed his camera back in one of his costume’s pockets, opened the front door and stepped outside.

"Yeah!"

The empty bag ready to be filled in one hand and the wagon full of friends trailing behind me were slowing me down. This Scarecrow was running oddly fast for a man made of straw but catching up with him took barely any time. We both turned around facing the entrance of the house where we had left the other witch behind. The Wicked Witch crossed the archway, stopped to readjust her hat once more, closed the door behind her and joined us.

"Let the madness begin."


	6. Going on the account

Learning is fun. Reading books and discovering new things have always been my favorite activities; Mum would often joke about how they were my only activities. One of the many positive aspects of a love of learning is that it translated well into school activities. Not having many, or any, friends there had its perks. Instead of being wasted in meaningless social interactions like playing sports or talking about fashion, the weather or whatever with my "friends", my time was spent with my nose deep into books. What others called boring or a pointless effort was a fun pastime for me. Whether it was leisure books, like a good Marie Curie biography, or textbooks, there was no exception. Even the Math textbooks, except there had been no fun with these ones. Math sucks. Having read all the textbooks in advance meant all school subjects were super easy to follow.

My parents were very supportive of my studies. Never once did my dad ask me to stop reading a book and go play ball outside. After they saw how well my previous grade went, they had decided to give me a little challenge. If I were to get my grades up and keep them up for the whole third grade, they would switch rooms with me. Well that hadn't been that much of a challenge for me and I had had no problem upholding my end of the bargain.

Well, not exactly. P.E. had been a bit of a problem. It wasn't that I was bad at it but I wasn't at the top of the class either. My requirement was to have top marks in every class and my C wasn't going to cut it. And reading all the books in the world wouldn't save me for this one. Lucky for me, the P.E. teacher was a good guy, he was happy to explain in detail what had to be done to achieve my goal. A serious training plan was born out of this discussion. I spent more time working on my body that year that I had in my whole life before. There was a lot of catching up to do. Some nights I fell asleep completely exhausted. But it was all worth it in the end. When the final scorecard arrived showing a perfect sea of As, I was overjoyed. Bye-bye small boring room, welcome to the huge one! A bigger room meant more space for my books, my friends and finally a corner dedicated to my experiments. Another benefit was no more backyard view! It was nice at first but had definitely gone stale over the years. It would be replaced by the ever-changing pictures of the street side view. Mum had set the date for moving day: the second weekend of July.

Planning the move had been more complicated than expected. Mum had had a battle plan all prepared for the whole weekend. She had tasked me with cleaning up my old room and packing everything in cardboard boxes. Then said boxes had been moved to a corner of my new room to create space in the other one. With the old room ninety percent empty, Dad had been able to move around and dismantle my old bed. Once in pieces, Mum and Dad moved it to the front lawn to be discarded at a later date. Where would I be sleeping without a bed? In my new one of course! I was getting a new and improved grown-up size bed this time. With a slatted bed frame instead of a spring one. No more bouncing around on it which was okay since, for older girls like me, bouncing on beds was a thing of the past. My perfect new bed came straight from a specialized catalogue Mum had shown me. Dad would pick it up at the furniture store later on, along with a new desk. My tasks were not completely done. The cupboard still needed to be empty before they could move it to the new room. This one was small enough to pass through the door without having to be dismantled first but, apparently, moving an empty cupboard instead of a full one was easier on your back.

Emptying the cupboard consisted of fetching socks from the open top drawer and stuffing them into a newly unfolded cardboard box. Using boxes to put stuff in only to empty then once again a few meters away seemed counterproductive to me.

"Mum? What are we using boxes for again? It's not like we are moving to a new town or something. It's just across the hall."

Mum was busying herself in the other room but with both rooms’ doors opened, her voice was reaching me without problem.

"And, pray tell, how would you have us move everything without them?"  
"Well, we could just throw everything onto the ground, move the cupboard and then refill it. Easy-peasy."

This drawer was nearly done, only a few socks left to fish out.

"Of course, sweetie. And who would be doing all the laundry afterwards? Because once your stuff hits the ground, it's not going back into a drawer. Think about it. With your little arms it would require ten times more back and forth between the rooms to move everything. Using boxes will be cleaner and faster, you will see."

A mountain of socks had filled up the poor cardboard box in front of me. They were now spilling all around it. My arms weren't short. They were long enough to bring this whole pile to my new room in one go. Applying pressure around the base of the mountain should do the trick. And lifting it up with one bent knee instead of bending my back. That was important. My arms needed to be deployed wide. Wider. Way wider. Nope. That didn't work. The mountain had transformed into a series of hills. There were more socks on the floor than in the box. The mountain hadn't been constructed properly. It had to go winter socks at the bottom and summer ones around the top. Recreating the pile directly into my arms was the way to go. One black pair of socks. Then the Mickey and Minnie one. Another black pair. And a green one. This pair hadn't been worn in ages. They probably didn't fit anymore. One. Two. Three white pairs. A grey one. And some had fallen over. Bending one knee to pick up the escapees gave the opportunity for another pair to jump ship as well. This was pointless. Mum was right, it would have required many backs and forth to move all that. My loot went back into the box and the stragglers followed their sisters soon after. Some socks had touched the ground but what Mum didn't know couldn't harm her. The other two drawers of this cupboard required three additional boxes to be completely emptied. It was time to fetch Dad from the other room.

"Dad! The cupboard is empty now, it's ready to be moved."

Dad wasn't in his old room anymore but he hadn't evaded his duty. The parent's massive king size bed had been completely dismantled with the pieces resting against the wall. This bed was huge! I could roll five times in a row on it and not fall over. Would it really fit into my old little room? Dad had probably done the calculation and checked that it would fit in before they decided to switch rooms. Or they would have to sleep on the floor. So, unless they had planned to switch to indoors camping, they would be fine. Mum had to be there somewhere. Clothes were being shuffled through and that wasn't the work of Bongo. He was still in my old room, avoiding to help us with the move. A few steps into my future room solved this mystery. She was hiding between the wardrobe and a pile of cardboard boxes.

"Can you two take care of what's left in Chloe's old room while I finish with the wardrobe, please? Call me when you need help for the cupboard."

Mum hadn't noticed that Dad had left the room already and she had no confidence in Dad's and my capacity at moving heavy stuff. I flexed my muscles to try and prove her wrong.

"No need, Mum. I'm super strong, I could move it all by myself!"

Mum laughed as a deep voice came from the doorway.

"I would love to see that, kiddo. Come."

Dad was back. He walked with me to my old room and surveyed the place.

"Let's check your strength, Supergirl. Are you able to lift this table over there?"

He pointed to the yellow plastic table where Bongo was currently taking a nap on. Waking up my furry friend when he was sleeping so peaceful was heartbreaking but it had to be done. Lifting up the table with him still on it would be too much work. He promptly executed my query when I asked him to get off the table. My hands strongly gripped the object of the strength exercise. All my strength went into my arms but the end of the table wasn't moving. This required a change of tactics. With one knee to the ground and both hands placed below the table, a strong push of my forearms was enough to heave a side of the table.

"See? I can do anything!"  
"Bravo, kiddo! Now bring it under the attic trap door please, we will leave it up there. Since you are getting a new desk you won't be using this one."

He went back to checking the cupboard. Dad was right, with my new desk, this old table had become obsolete. A lot of fond memories were attached to this table. My first drawing. The time Bongo had ended up with an orange tail. But this walk to the attic would be the last. It was time to say goodbye. It wasn't a death sentence for the yellow piece of furniture though. Dad would have asked to send it downstairs if it had been. The table would be perfectly fine in the attic. They were a lot of old stuff up there to keep it company.

Lifting the whole table had been a total failure so it would have to be dragged all the way to the attic door instead. The hallway path was unencumbered so the table reached the objective without a hitch. The only real obstacle had been the door that hadn't been large enough but the table passed through it on its side just fine. The trap door was already opened with a ladder propped below it. A pile of cardboard boxes was set near it, probably waiting to be moved up the attic. The table joined the boxes. My heart was beating hectically. That was a lot of effort. It was time for a short break. Ew! Resting my hands on one of the boxes had been a bad idea. Where did all this dust come from? A quick tour to the bathroom and they were clean again. That was enough procrastinating for now. Dad was waiting for me.

"The table has arrived at its destination!"  
"Excellent, now climb up the ladder and wait for me… ouch! Damnit!"

A clang resonated from my old bedroom. Dad was probably trying to move the cupboard on his own, wanting to show off to Mum. My first instinct was to go back there and help him move it but it was overridden by my arms’ strong will for some rest after all the transporting they had done. They were exhausted, poor little things and had to keep their energy for climbing the ladder to the attic.

The attic placed near the bottom of my list of the house's favorite spots - the garbage bin disposal on the front yard took the last place on this list - it was very cold in the winter and too hot in the summer, and it always carried a strange smell. Mum had always denied it but no one was ever really alone in the attic. Some bizarre creatures lived in it as well, besides the usual rats, cockroaches and spiders. But the journey had to be made. The light switch was barely used and liked it that way, it resisted my attempt to turn the light on until my finger finally had the better of it. The creatures in the attic were warned: Chloe was coming through! At least the ladder was cooperating. It was firmly fixed and not wobbly at all. It was perfectly safe to go up. My head popped into the attic without anything jumping at me, which was a good sign. My bottom settled on the floor near the edge of the attic trap door. Strangely, it wasn't as dusty as expected. Dad was waving at me from below.

"Hey, kiddo. Can you grab this for me?"

He lifted up a box towards me. With one hand pressing on each side of it, the box entered its new domain. A word on a corner of the box read "Clothes". No winter clothes or summer clothes, or clothes for donation. Just simple clothes. It meant these clothes didn't have any specific usage. This box would stay in there for a while, hibernating until its new purpose was discovered. At least it wouldn't be doing that alone. A pile of similar looking boxes was stored in a corner not three feet from me. The box started to get acquainted with its new friend while a new task awaited me at the hole in the floor. Dad already had another box in his arm.

"Another one for you."

This box had two holes on each side so it was easy to hold on to. This one had the same word written on it, so it joined its friends in the corner.

"And the last one."

And another box. That was a heavy one. My hands nearly lost their hold on it when Dad let go. Lucky for them, my forearms were just nearby to come to their rescue, applying enough pressure on the box to prevent it from falling. Crossing the three feet took an eternity. The trip ended with an unexpected crack. The bottom of the box had burst open and unleashed its content on the ground.

"Dammit!"  
"What happened, kiddo?"  
"One of the boxes is broken."

The side of the now-empty cardboard box read "Linen". The remains of the box flew to the ground. The fading in and out footsteps coming from the entrance indicated that Dad had gone away for a second and was just returning.

"There. Take this one and fill it back up, please?"

A folded cardboard box was picking its head out of the attic trapdoor. It unfolded without a scratch, happy to be of use, completely unaware that it was devouring the entrails of its predecessor. This feast was a mixed one. Some pillow cases, a white and blue bed sheet that had thankfully not unfolded during its fall, a pair of red bathroom gloves and a few towels. You would think that Mum would have organized the items to have one type per box but no, it was a mess. One item caught my eye in particular. A green towel with a yellow design on it - were they supposed to be waves or birds? - And at its center was a white skull on top of two bones forming a cross. The skull was wearing a black hat. The tricorn hat had its own set of crossed bones. Why was it the first time I laid eyes on this masterpiece? Where had it been hidden all this time? It looked awesome and there was no way it would waste away in a box in the attic. This one was staying with me. Folded once on its length, the epic towel landed on my shoulder. The box had finished its feast. Contrary to its predecessor, it didn't give up after five seconds of being lifted up. There was no specific area reserved for linen so it joined the clothes one. The broken box came from the same pack as the other one. Why had it been the only one breaking? Perhaps it was due to my new favorite towel. It had surely wanted to escape its prison. It would spend its free time leisurely hanging on a rail in the bathroom, waiting for our next trip to the beach. Waiting… Waiting… Dad was still downstairs, waiting for my status report.

"Incident resolved!"  
"Good, come grab the table now."

Dad held the yellow table over his head towards the trap door. He was so strong; he wasn't even breaking a sweat. With Dad on the other side of the table, this thing weighed nothing. Why couldn't it have been this light when it was my time to move it earlier? Hoisting it completely into the attic took barely a second. Once it hit the floor, it was back to its usual weight. Dad had made all the difference. Someone had probably been awaiting its arrival. An old washing machine and a faded green cupboard had some empty space between them. The perfect final resting place for my old yellow table.

"Dad, why are we keeping the table but throwing away my old bed?"  
"Because one day we might find a new use for the table. As for your bed, it was long due for a change and we would have found you a new one whether you had changed room or not. Half the springs were dead and two of the legs were barely holding on, another month and you would have ended up on the ground."  
"I see. I'm all done here."

My arms were complaining again. They really weren't meant to do all this heavy lifting. After today they would request me to get a vacation from all heavy work for a year at least.

"You can come down now!"

My time in the attic was finally over, I was allowed out of this miserable place and back into proper civilization. Dad waited for me at the foot of the ladder. Climbing down a ladder was a dreaded process. It had something to do with not being able to see my way backward. At least, in case of a fall, Dad would be here to catch me.

"What's that on your shoulder?"

Had a creature tried to escape the attic by traveling on my shoulder? Should I stop my descent to check it out? There was nothing on my left shoulder. And on the right one… Silly me, he was referring to my towel.

"Oh, that?"

Once my feet hit solid ground, my hands flew to my new acquisition and unfolded it wide enough for Dad to admire.

"It's my new towel. It has a cool skull and the skull even has its own hat."  
"I remember this towel; we all went to a thrift shop and your mother found a cheap pile of towels. This one was in it as well as a peculiar one, blue with a yellow canary on it. If you remember, you were glued to it as soon as you’d laid eyes on it. I guess you completely dismissed all the others."  
"No way! I was so dumb back then. How could I have ignored such an awesome towel?!"  
"I wondered as well. Looks like you finally found a taste for the pirate life!"  
"The what now?"  
"The pirate life, the skull on the towel is one of the main insignias of the pirates. I'm sure we… Didn't I show you the documentary about Edward Thatch? I'm sure I've recorded the one they broadcasted a year or two ago…"  
"It doesn't ring a bell. I think I would have remembered if I ever did."  
"Oh, kiddo. You're in for a ride! Tonight, after dinner, I'll show you a whole new world."  
"Doesn't Mum want to watch one of the new cooking shows tonight?"  
"These kinds of shows always have reruns, she will be able to watch it tomorrow, she will understand. Get ready, kiddo because tonight, we have a meeting with Davy Jones!"

After a long conversation about TV schedules and priorities between Mum and Dad, we ended up watching the documentary the next morning and it was the most awesome thing that has ever happened to me.

  


* * *

  


Too bad my furry friend hadn't been at the door to greet me. It would have saved me a few steps. That gave me the opportunity to unencumber myself. My backpack landed on the side of the front door. My homework would have to wait.

"Bongo! Come, quick! You have to see this!"

One call and he was running down the stairs.

"Where are we going?"  
"You will see. It's the Guacamole Effect again!"

The front door hadn't had time to close before it saw me leave again with my faithful companion at my side.

"The what effect?"  
"The Guacamole Effect! You know. When Mum came back home last year with a big jar full of a green and disgusting substance. She stuffed it in the fridge."  
"Right. This guacamole."  
"Yeah. She told us what it was part of the recipe for burritos. So not disgusting after all."  
"Far from it. I love burritos!"  
"So do I! But that's not the point. Do you remember what we saw on the TV that same day during the commercials?"  
"Let me guess…"  
"An ad for guacamole!"  
"You didn't give me enough time to answer!"  
"And what did we have on the wall near the school bus station?"  
"Another guacamole ad."  
"Exactly! And an old one, it had been there forever but I'd never noticed it before! Before Mum told me about it, it was like it didn't exist at all and afterward, guacamole was everywhere!"  
"What happened now? Someone stole all the guacamole in the world?"  
"Silly cat! No. The same phenomena is happening but with something else this time. Look!"

The elderly neighbor's son was making his monthly visit. His car was parked in their nice couple's driveway. Some people spend their fortune on their cars, keeping them clean and polished. This guy was the total opposite. The car was a dinosaur and always on the brink of total breakdown. The back was covered in various stickers. He had collected them over the years from everywhere he traveled. My finger was resting on one of them, located right under the left tail light.

"Do you see that?"  
"Well, not really, your finger is all over it…"  
"There. It's gone. Better now?"  
"It's a ship…"  
"Flying the Jolly Roger!"  
"And?  
"Pirates! Pirates are everywhere!"  
"Uh-huh."  
"First there was the towel. Then the VHS tapes in Dad's collection. You remember how much time we spend rummaging through his boxes? Why haven't I seen these tapes before."  
"We were looking for other subjects…"  
"I could have had the time to watch them all ten times over by now. If I had known earlier… Oh and the books. Don't forget about the books."  
>"We wouldn’t dare forget about the books…"  
"I was sure I had read everything we had at home but they were just standing there, right in front of my face, totally at arms lengths. Classic literature Dad called them. "On Stranger Tides", "Treasure Island". Where had they been when I was starving for reading content?"  
"I purposefully avoided them. Their titles had too much connection with water."  
"Yeah, right. But come, it's not all."

A minute walk brought us in front of an illuminated bus stop ad that was displaying a poster for a blockbuster movie that had been playing in theaters all summer. In the middle of the poster, an aged scroll was presenting the movie title in an old handwritten font, the scroll was pinned down by a skull wearing a red bandana. There was a cross as well but it was made of bones this time with two swords behind the skull. Below the scroll was a beach being invaded. Pirates armed to the teeth with sabers and cutlasses charging toward a pile of gold and old human skulls. Ships on fire could be seen in the background. Bongo stole the words right out of my mouth.

"A pirate movie."  
"Yes. A pirate movie! Dad mentioned it last week and today I got off the bus and turned right instead of left and boom I found this poster! Can you believe it has been playing in the theater since August?"  
"Well they could have indicated it somewhere on the poster."  
"I bet this movie will be full of action."  
"Unless it's a drama period piece. Like the ones your mum adores."  
"I hope not! Dad read the synopsis and he said Mum wouldn't like it."  
"What did he say it was about again?"  
"He never did. He didn't want to spoil the story."  
"That won't stop us from speculating though. Who do you think these people are?"

Bongo was referring to the four actors that were looking down on us from the top of the poster. Who could they be? My knowledge of pirate lore had grown greatly in such a short period of time but none of their facial expressions or costumes were indicating any popular names. Eliminating the obvious might help flesh out their identity.

“The one on the far right couldn't be Blackbeard. His beard is gorgeous but its grey. And he is way too old for the role.”  
"Unless they went with an alternative history where he survived long enough to grow old."  
"I doubt it. So, there won't be any Blackbeard in this movie."  
"Why not?"  
"Do you see any beard on the other ones?"  
"No."  
"And no respectable movie would have Blackbeard in it and not put it on the front of their poster!"  
"Let's skip this one for now. How about the other? Who's this guy in the middle?"

The red bandana wearing man was sporting a thick moustache and a goatee. He had crossed his arms on his chest, with a sword in one hand and a black powder gun in the other.

"That could be... Long John Silver?”  
"I don't see it."

The two people left were young in comparison. A man and a woman. The man had no distinguishable traits.

"This one could be a cabin boy or a powder monkey.”  
"Why would they put a secondary character next to their main crew?"  
"Good question. I might have overlooked something."

The woman was pretty. With a fair face and long blonde hair, holding a necklace in her hand. Her face seemed familiar but her name didn't come to mind. But she was just so pretty. In a matter of fact, they all were kind of pretty.

"Bongo?"  
"Chloe?"  
"Don't you find them all a bit too pretty?"  
"Well, by cat standard, you all look the same so…"  
"Pirates aren't supposed to be that clean and beautiful! But they have to be pirates, right? It would be silly to have a movie about pirates from the Caribbean and not have any in the main cast. And the first two are definitely wearing pirate outfits. They are just too clean.”  
"Well, it’s a movie, Chloe. They have to keep them clean or people won't come see it. You know very well that in the world of the movie, everyone has to be pretty."

The woman was fascinating. She couldn't be just a plain woman, she had to be hiding something. And there was one famous she-pirate that was good at hiding.

"The woman could be Anne Bonny. The famous she-wolf of the sea. That would make the young man her lover and partner in crime.”  
“Calico Jack.”  
"Exactly!"  
"That's better than a simple cabin boy."  
“And I bet the other two are just some randos that they put there for misdirection.”  
“One of them could be the current captain of the ship that will be overthrown by Jack midway into the picture.”  
"Yes! Everything is matching perfectly."  
“Except for one thing…”  
"What do you mean?"  
"Is Anne supposed to be Irish?"  
"Right! That small detail demolishes the whole theory… She should have red hair!”  
"Or perhaps they just decided to do without the red hair. The actress might not have liked the color or it clashed too much with the overall tone of the picture.”  
“Or we are just completely wrong on all accounts and this movie isn't based on a real story and they are all original characters.”  
"It could be that." "I guess we will find out soon enough. We just have to wait two more days! My first pirate motion picture in color and on the big screen! TV is nice but the cinema screen is going to blow us away!”  
"I doubt they will let me in with you though…"  
"I'm sure they won't mind. And if they do, you will find a way to sneak inside, I'm sure."  
"You know me too well."  
"It's going to be epic! Do you think I could ask the guy that's in charge of removing the ad if I could keep it?"

  


* * *

  


The sea seemed aware of what was to come. The waves were growing angrier and angrier. Each time the tide broke on the side of the ship, more water poured through the broken window that had been my entry point. The air was filled with the foul smell of salt, alga and death. The whole officers' quarters were drenched. The only source of light was provided by a small fire that had been started by a fallen candlestick in the last dry corner located on the side opposite the window. My body resisted the cadence of the sea. Despite the cabin swinging left and right, it effortlessly stayed upright. Moving forward was a slow and hazardous ordeal. My boot, half drowned by the pestilent water covering the floor, bumped into the corpse of a Spanish soldier that was about to start rotting. It was the only body floating in there. They had been cold for some time indeed. A stride over the bloated corpse put me in reach of the luxurious marble table that was presiding at the center of the cabin. A feast had been prepared but barely eaten. Nothing looked fresh anymore. My pocket knife poked through an orange from one of the trays still standing and brought it closer for inspection. From the outside the fruit looked intact. Nothing note-worthy about it. It could still be a trap. The pelt peeled away without resistance, uncovering a perfectly satisfactory interior coloring. The texture was a bit too chewy but otherwise normal. It tasted like an orange one would have bought at the market the same day or the day before. The rest went into the fire. The fruit had been edible but my teeth were disagreeing with me and my tummy was still full from my last meal anyway. The investigation continued.

A richly clothed man was seated at the table, previously facing the door, he had fallen over, his face in his plate with a dagger planted in his back. He should have thought twice before sitting down with his back to the window. Making my way to the late captain of the ship was a slugfest. My fingers drummed anxiously on the table the whole time. The reason for the man's death shined its shiniest as my hand reached for its handle. It was a fine piece of work and seemed still sharp. It would make a fine addition to my collection. The dead man didn't mind me using his colonial jacket to wipe out the blood from the dagger. The empty sheath on my belt made the perfect new home for my new acquisition. The clothes don't make the man. One had to be sure the body had belonged to the real captain of this ship. Lifting up the dead man's head would discard the imposter theory. It revealed more than that. A shiny piece of silver was dangling on a chain around his neck. A quick snap of the wrist freed the necklace from the deadweight. There was no more need for holding the colonial anymore. His head fell back down on the table with a bang.

That wasn't an ordinary silver necklace but a piece of metal in the shape of the lower part of a human jaw. I could feel the coldness of the jewel through my leather gloves. It was time to get out of here before my hands decided to let go of the piece. The reason why the door hadn't been accessible from the outside was clear now. A fallen chair was barricading the normal way out. It was a strong wooden chair, resembling more a throne than anything else. It took some effort but it went back near the table in the end. Like that, if the captain wanted his chair back, he wouldn't have to move too far. On the other end, the exit door was far from a solid affair. The hinges were all somehow rusty and the doorknob was covered in some sort of slime. My gloves didn't deserve to be soiled by that but my boots weren't so picky. A solid kick and the hinges gave up immediately letting the door fall forward. The scene displayed before me was becoming too familiar.

The waves hadn't spared the deck either, water and algae covered the deck floor. We had seen a lot of corpses floating around when we arrived but the sea hadn't claimed all the bodies. What's left of the brave men and women who were once the members of this haunted vessel were still lying around the deck. The foremast was broken in half with the topgallant missing, probably lost at sea. The only people moving about were my own.

Most of them were gathering the remains of the old crew, piling them up and getting ready to give them a proper burial at sea. Some of my crewmates were climbing on the masts still standing, bringing down the sails. This ship wasn't going to use them anymore and they seemed to be in good condition. They would be decent replacements for the old decrepit ones of my ship. The crew members were all looking in my direction, eyes wide, expecting. They were all waiting for my next command. A haunted ship was a source of trouble. Someone might have had an accident. A headcount was in order. Six on the masts, twelve on deck. The three missing were the usual ones assigned lower deck investigation duty. They would surely come up for air anytime soon. As expected, two more heads showed up followed shortly after by my quartermaster. He hadn't come from below though but appeared from behind a barrel. He was trying to show a brave face, pretending not to be impacted by the dreadful spectacle all around him or he might still be groggy after a long nap.

My fist banged on the wooden wall of the cabin. Everyone stopped what they were doing and gathered nearer, the ones in the lower part were joining the deck as well to see what it was all about.

"Ahoy me mateys!"  
"Arrr"

A chorus of exclamation roared through the broken vessel.

"We've been at sea for three whole months now."  
"Aye!"

The men and women were looking at each other with tired and dirty faces.

"Without rest we chased leads after leads, to find only disappointment."

To reinforce my words, my eyes went to my feet.

"Aye!"

The voices were angrier this time. Their pain was my pain. We were all in the same boat.

"Luck hasn't been with us so far. We lost our beloved Thomas in that unfortunate black powder incident. The food hasn't been the same since."

The united voice dispersed into multiple exclamations.

"No, it hasn't! -- Tastes like dirt now! -- Hey I'm working with what I've got here -- We're not blaming you Roger but you could perhaps make an effort, I don't know, add more salt? -- We've been out of clean salt since Tortuga! -- Who was in charge of the salt supply?! -- that was Charles' job! -- Charles? He is long dead! Nobody thought about taking over his role? -- Well I…"

This could have gone on and on and on. This madness had to be stopped. A second bang on the wall would have worked if it wasn't for the intervention of my quartermaster. He had anticipated my move.

"Guys, guys. Settle down. It's getting out of hand, that's not the focus of the current discussion. Let the captain speak."

He was fully awake by now and finally taking his role seriously. I cleared my throat and continued.

"At the start of our journey, I made you all a promise. Do you remember what it was?"  
"Aye! -- Gold! -- Glory! -- Adventure! -- Eternal Youth! -- She really promised that? -- I don't know, I think she just made it up -- Food that didn't taste like dirt! -- Oh, will you shut up about it, Marge!"

They were all sporting mixed looks of anger and despair. They were in dire need of cheering up.

"Aye! Aye! To all of that, or most of it at least. But our chance has finally turned up. Today is the day; on this floating graveyard, we've found what we have been looking for, what has been eluding us for so long! The answer to all our dreams. Behold: the last piece of John's Jaw!"

My fist unfolded letting the shiny necklace illuminate the night. A joyous uproar echoed throughout the ship.

"Bring me the Bone Jail!"

Two mates broke out of the group, going to our ship and coming back to us carrying a heavy wooden chest. At the front of the chest was inscribed with the picture of a human skull with a hole replacing the lower part of its jaw that was obviously missing. My knee hit the dirty floor in front of the Bone Jail. Water started to invade my holed breeches but that didn't matter. This was the moment of truth, after all these years at sea, the key was finally ours and would soon make me the first captain to lay eyes on the most sought-after treasure of the seven seas. The jaw slid into the hole with an ominous click. The black smoke coming out of the chest made me take a step back. The skull picture started to move on its own, reforming itself around its previously missing part, then a real skull emerged from the picture. Its mouth opened and closed a few times, probably testing its newly formed jaw, then stopped in a half open smile. Its eyes started to glow bright red and the chest opened, revealing its content. There had been several legends pointing at the same chest. One said it would contain infinite knowledge in the form of an all-knowing pencil. Another said it would be a crown making you king - or queen in this case - of all the seas. A particular one had mentioned the chest was full of popsicles but this one had surely been made up by some hungry kids. There had been other speculation but no one had expected this as the content of this chest. There was nothing but a note written on a strange clean white sheet of graph paper.

The paper crumpled slightly into my hand.

"The treasure is not here anymore. Ha-ha. You were too slow so I took it for myself. I challenge whoever you are to come and get it from me. Signed: The Pirate King."

The time to jump up and down on the bed was over. The wooden box went to my side while the piece of paper stayed in my hand. My eyes couldn't keep away from it. My expectations hadn’t been that extravagant. Some sort of treasure, a new pencil or a coupon for something. But not this totally anachronistic piece of paper. I had been duped. It was treason to the highest degree. My fury escaped my throat in a gigantic roar.

"Dad! Where is my treasure?!"

Out of fear, the piece of paper crawled up into a ball and fled towards the garbage can that was set near the desk. The ball landed right into it.

"Yes! First try!"  
"Chloe? You've finally opened the chest?"

Dad was downstairs but his voice wasn't too muffled, he was probably in the kitchen.

"Yeah and you have to stop calling me Chloe. I am Blackbeard, Captain of the Queen Anne's Revenge!"

Proudly standing up on my bed had been a mistake. A lath squeaked from under me. Dad showed up at my chamber door.

"I'll start calling you by your pirate name once you find one that is your own. Blackbeard is already taken and you can't use his boat either. Start up this wonderful imagination machine of yours, I'm sure you will come up with something perfect for you.  
"Yeah, like you are using Pirate King for yourself… very original, not generic at all!"  
"Hey! I'm old, my imagination isn't working very well anymore! I do what I can!"  
"So what happened to my treasure? I was supposed to find the Apple of knowledge into the chest…"  
"Well, to be fair, I thought you would have found the key three weeks ago."  
"I had a hard time finding the last clue, I think Bongo went behind my back and moved it away from its original spot. I bet he wanted to keep the treasure for himself but he just forgot he couldn't open the lock with his little paws."  
"Of course, kiddo, it's always the cat's fault. Anyway, as time passed… the apple started to rot so I removed it and put this note instead. I had planned to replace the note later on with another apple but I kind of forgot about it…"  
"I see. I spent a year on a treasure hunt, only to end up with a lousy note, it's kind of anti climatic. I hope you have a plan to make up for it."  
"Anticlimactic is the word you were looking for and don't worry about it, kiddo, I have a good plan in mind. It will be the start of a whole new treasure hunt. Our next adventure will be an epic chase across the seven seas between the Pirate King and…"

A second passed by but he wasn't finishing his sentence. He was probably waiting for me to input my new name. He wanted me to think of something on the spot. Blackbeard had been my first choice. My new name had to be even better without straying too far from it.

"The Pirate King and Captain Bluebeard!"  
"Captain Bluebeard. I guess that will do for now. Okay, kiddo, I have to go back down and clean up the kitchen table. Your mother could arrive any minute now and you know how she is when she comes home to a messy kitchen."

He took a quick look around the bedroom.

"And please, close the window, I don't want the deluge outside to flood the whole house."  
"Well, it felt more authentic this way."  
"Sure thing, kiddo. At least you know where to find the mop."

A mop? What for? Had he seen a mess somewhere? A puddle of rainwater that had formed on the floor right under the window but what Dad had probably missed was that the puddle was threatening to reach the electrical outlet near my cd player. Navigating around the new lake, making sure not to step into it, while not giving it away required great effort. The window went back to its primary role of keeping the rain out. Dad wasn’t acting all furious so he probably hadn't seen the disaster that had been averted. Using real rain for ambiance was a good idea. On paper. It had helped me a lot but the execution had been poorly done. Next time, a well-placed bucket or some mops would prevent any disasters. Or just keeping the shutters closed, the rain would have hit them and fallen back into the front yard. The sound of rain hitting the shutters wasn't the same as with a fully open window but it would have been enough and less messy. After all, the sound was most important and the smell came second. The wetness could have been done without.

Dad was about to step back into the corridor when he stopped at the last second in the doorway.

"Remind me, you are done with your homework, right?"

My body blocked his view of the window area, preventing any last second discovery.

"Already done, homework comes first, always!"  
"Always! That's my girl!"

A ping of anxiety traveled through my brain when he stepped back into the room, coming close to me. But he only did that to kiss me on the forehead and immediately rushed out of the room. My muscles relaxed as soon as he tumbled down the stairs.

The problem of the window's mess was averted, if only temporarily. Other more important matters required my attention. A small briefcase was probably angry and needed to be fed. It was patiently waiting for me under the bed. It was so happy to be hoisted on the bed it freely opened its mouth. The case's belly was full of piles of cards. An ordinary person would probably be hoarding their commercial trading cards collection in there but they were nothing like that. They were all one of a kind, handmade pieces of paper carefully protected by a transparent cover sheet. The two cards that had been lying on the bed next to me. One had a jaw crudely drawn on it with the numbers two, five one and eight written in a very Victorian style under it. It had been the combination of the lock Dad had put on the chest. Brute forcing the lock would have unlocked it weeks ago but the fun was in finding the cards rather than the content of the chest itself. The other card had teeth marks on it - they hadn't come from Dad though - and had a drawing of a hammer. It had taken me far too long to make the connection: the hammer came from a toolbox, the toolbox was supposed to be in the toolshed, the toolshed of course being in the garden. A lot of effort went into searching the whole toolshed. Turning it upside down took several days but to no avail. A few days after that, the card being bored of not being found, it showed up outside the toolshed, near the picket fences. It hadn't left the toolshed on its own though. Bongo had certainly found it first and intentionally relocated it to make the chase last longer but, when confronted about the subject, he denied it all.

Anyway, all that was over and done now, and there was only one thing left to do. The case ate the two cards, closed its mouth, satisfied, and went back to hibernate under the bed. It was the end of this adventure but another one would start soon. In the meanwhile, a mop and a broom were waiting for me in the bathroom. The mess under the window wasn't going to clean itself.


	7. Be not afraid of a little snow

_"Wonderland...*Bells ringing* That is the fucking word man. *Girl laughing*"_

"Okay, folks, that was Ozzy and Jessica's interpretation of Winter Wonderland. Oh my God, my ears are still bleeding. If you are just tuning in: Hi! I'm Fred Rogers and you are listening to 87.9 FM The STYR! We are one hour deep into our Worst Christmas song Covers Ever segment, my assistant Stan helped me gather an impressive selection this year and you have missed quite a lot of horribleness, lucky you! I hope the kids are not already up listening to this crap. I hope my boss is still asleep or I'm so gonna get fired for this one. By the way, it's a quarter till six in the morning here in Arcadia Bay and yes, we are December the twenty fifth. I don't know about you, but for me, in the heart of town, it's snowing like crazy, so if you plan on driving out, don't forget your snow tires! What's that you say? You don't own snow tires yet? I've got just the thing for you, I bought mine at…"

My hand left the warmth of my blanket long enough to turn the radio off. That was enough shenanigans from Fred for this morning. My bed was so comfy but I had to get up, I had things to do. My slippers weren't as warm as my bed but they offered an acceptable buffer against the cold floor. A trip to the window confirmed two things: someone had forgotten to close the shutters the previous night and the radio host hadn't lied, it was snowing.

"Sweet!"

My own excitement surprised me, it wasn't my first snow. Snow was very common during the winter but I couldn't help myself from feeling giddy at seeing the white powder falling from the sky. But I had to be careful, it was still early in the morning and I might have been a bit loud just then. My hands went to my mouth to cover any future outburst while my ear stuck to the door. No movement in the corridor, no sounds of door opening from the parents' bedroom. Nothing. My feet brought me slowly back to the window where I glued my face against the glass while whispering as quietly as possible.

"Bongo, come over here! You have to see this!" 

A soft thud came from the bed. A second later, Bongo brushed against my legs. He jumped on the windowsill. I unglued my face from the window to let my furry friend join me into admiring the spectacle that nature was offering to us. The sun hadn't come up yet, the only things moving were the snowflakes dancing around illuminated by the street's lanterns. Everything was white. It looked like the world had stopped and was covered in snow.

After a few more minutes, my excitement faded away, being replaced by a feeling of tiredness, an expected emotion at this hour of the day. All this snow was mesmerizing and waking up in the middle of a sleep cycle hadn't helped. My eyelids were starting to close again and my head bumped against the windows and stayed there to rest. The cold of the glass was bothering me less than my need for sleep. I was going back to my dreams, so rudely interrupted, when a loud bang, coming from the kitchen, threw my back out of it. I couldn't go back to sleep, I had things to do. My alarm clock hadn't buzzed so early on this special day for nothing.

I was wide awake now but the sun was still sleeping. My hand found its way to the glowy bear. The orange light emitted by my favorite lamp was enough to guide me towards the closet. My feet left their slippers to jump into a clean pair of socks but the floor was still cold. If my feet were already cold in our heated house, what would it be once outside? Another pair joined the first one, for good measures. Once my feet were well protected, it was time to find the rest of my outfit. A bright red cargo pants and my "it's always sunny" t-shirt, the one with Uni the unicorn on it. It was probably all in my head but despite its thin fabric, this t-shirt was always the warmest one of my wardrobe. As much as I would have loved to show off my t-shirt to everyone, going out wearing only this was unacceptable. My green wool sweater would hide my awesome t-shirt but also prevent me from freezing. Sorry Uni. She would have her time in the spotlight once the spring came. My unprotected hands went into hiding in a pair of black linen gloves. My neck was feeling left out now but it was quickly enveloped into the brown scarf made of alpaca wool Mum had bought me last winter. This scarf had a very scrumpy exterior - it wasn't going to win any best looking scarf contest anytime soon - and I had my doubt when Mum first showed it to me but it had immediately been dispelled once it touched my neck: It was the most comfortable scarf ever.

Something was missing but I couldn't figure out what. It would come back to me in time. Bongo had left the windowsill and was back on the bed, making himself comfortable.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with?"  
"In this weather? I'm good here, thank you!"

He rolled onto himself and went back to sleep. Bongo had a "Look but don't touch" policy regarding snow. He rarely went outside during this weather. That was too bad because he was missing out on a lot of fun things.

"It's a once in a lifetime event, are you sure?"

He was snoring and purring at the same time.

"Your loss."

It was time to venture downstairs. The chamber door opened without a sound. No sign of movement in the corridor. The roar of a motor engine came from my parent's room. Winter wasn't kind to my mother's sleep, her snoring was getting louder and louder. Waking her up when she was in this state was sure to make her super grumpy. It was best to avoid that and make my way downstairs as silently as possible. No other lights but the kitchen's were on. Dad had his back to me, apparently cleaning out last night's dishes.

We had had quite the dinner. As was tradition, Mum would only take care of the dessert while Dad was in charge of the Christmas main course and every year he would try a new recipe. Sometimes it was a success, like the spinach lasagna from two years ago, but more often than not it was a complete disaster. Once the food had burned, taking the whole oven with it. That had been an expensive dinner. But most of the time the food was just not edible at all. This year nothing had exploded but the meat pie had been undercooked. Even Bongo had disapproved, he had taken one sniff of it and ran away from the plate. As usual, we had to go with the other tradition: we had ordered the Christmas pizza. Cleaning up after pizza was easy but there were still the utensils used to make the pie to clean up.

"Good morning, Dad!"  
"Oh, hey, kiddo! I thought all this snow made you change your mind about our little expedition. It's the perfect weather to stay in bed."  
"No way! I'm not missing that for anything in the world!"

A piece of leftover cake was waiting for me by the counter. With his hand submerged under the soapy water, Dad gave me a smile and a wink.

"I see you are ready to go. Let me finish up quick here and we will be on our way."

Dad was nearly prepared to go out, the only piece missing was his coat resting on a chair. But Mum was still asleep.

"Mum isn't coming?"  
"You know her, she's not really interested in this thing and it's one of the few days in the year when she can stay in bed. So we will let her get her beauty sleep while we enjoy ourselves."  
"She doesn't know what she is missing!"  
"Well, I'm bringing the cameras so if she has regret later on we'll still have pictures to show her."  
"I guess so."  
"Now, you have a choice to make, young one, either help me dry off and shelve this or go find our winter hats. What will it be?"

I didn’t feel like removing my gloves so the choice was an easy one.

"Hats it is!"

A box marked "Christmas Clothes" had made its way from the attic to the garage. It was already open, waiting for me by the workshop table. I plunged my head into the box to locate the proper headgears for our outing. As usual, all the good ones were hiding at the bottom. After the content of the box had stirred for a few minutes, two fine candidates popped up. Dad must have been waiting for me, I had to hurry back to the kitchen. Said kitchen was separated from the garage by a hallway. The hallway that led to the living room where our Christmas tree was currently sitting. Had Santa already come with the gifts or was he late once again? No way to be sure, only the silhouette of the pine tree was visible in the living room. There was no time to investigate this. I would have to wait a little longer to find it out. The hats hid behind my back as I entered the kitchen. The dishes were done. With his coat on, his camera bag on his back and a gym bag dangling from his shoulder, Dad was ready to go. He was looking at me expectantly.

"Here they are. For myself, I've got the dark green wool cap that Mum bought last year. She doesn’t like it anyway. And, for you, I took your favorite red and white Rudolf the reindeer hat with the blinking light at the top."  
"Ah, yes, though it hasn't blinked in quite some time. I know every time we bring it up we never do it but we should really take the time to change the battery one of these days."  
"Why not break the cycle? We could do it now. I think we have some left in the cupboard."  
"And miss the deadline? We don't have time for that!"  
"Let's go then!"

With my hat firmly settled on my head and my coat zipped up all the way to my chin, I was ready to go. As Dad opened the front door, we were immediately assaulted by a wave of snow. A normal person would have seen it as a sign to stay home but it didn't matter to us, we soldiered on and made our way to the car. Dad handed me the frost scratcher and went to warm up the engine. The top layer of snow accumulated on the windshield was easy to remove with just my gloves. The bottom layer was resisting but with the help of the handy scratcher, I made short work of it. My arms were hurting from the exercise but the windshield was finally cleared. The cold wind insisted on ignoring my clothing and biting my skin. The inside of the car saved me from the wind but the heater was still not running. It sucked that it couldn't be activated independently from the engine. After a few minutes of waiting and ten new dollars for the swear jar from Dad, the car finally came to life and we were on our way. Dad took a left turn when he should have taken a right. Something wasn't right.

"Dad? Are you sure this is the right way? Aren't we going back to the harbor?"  
"Trust me, kiddo. The view is far superior where we are going. You will see."  
"If you say so, Dad."

Time was ticking but driving any faster with all that snow would have been a death warrant. At least this early in the morning we weren't bothered by the traffic. With barely fifteen minutes left on our deadline, Dad parked the car in what looked to be the middle of nowhere at first but ended up being at the start of a trail that was disappearing inside a small forest. He turned off the engine and turned to me.

"Okay, kiddo, the car can't follow us where we are going. We have to finish on foot. It should be a five minute walk from here."  
"Only five minutes? We can do it!"  
"We sure can!"

The snow was acting up outside. My bones were freezing despite my multiple layers of clothing. We were definitely in the middle of a snowstorm. The five minutes of walking ended up being a fifteen-minute battle against the elements. The snow was coming up to my waist by now. I was thankful for my choice of pants, nothing had infiltrated so far. After a long path of only trees and snow, Dad indicated that we had arrived at our destination. The trail ended in front of a structure that I should have been able to see far sooner if I hadn't been looking down focusing on where to set my next steps.

The lighthouse has always been an important part of our town lore. It featured in the background of every postcard. Its recognizable form dominating the cliff was clearly visible from the diner where Mum worked. The mind can play tricks on you. Being used to only seeing the lighthouse from afar, I had always pictured it as a small structure. Seeing it up close demolished this picture. This building was so big and tall. The weather wasn't helping but with its head hidden in the cloud, the tower looked endless. It was too bad that the lighthouse had fallen into disuse and wasn't allowing visitors anymore, I would have loved to see what its inside was made of. The lighthouse wasn't the only piece of civilization out there. A bench, sitting between the feet of the lighthouse and the edge of a cliff was overseeing the ocean. It was drowning under the mountain of snow. Next to it, a glass display case wasn't doing any better. The view unraveled before me as we approached the lighthouse. We could see the whole of Arcadia Bay from up here. Maybe I could figure out where our house was?

"Careful now, Chloe. Don't go near the edge of the cliff, the ground is slippery and I don't want to have to take a dive to go rescue you from the fall."  
"Yes, Dad."

He dropped his gym bag on the bench, leaving an imprint in the snow and took out a pair of binoculars.

"This one's for you."

These binoculars were the perfect tools for sightseeing but first the plastic lids occulting the lenses had to be unlocked. Dad retrieved another pair then pointed towards the display case.

"See the map? The one under the display case? Look in this direction and you should see the harbor from here."

The display case was clear in front of me but there was nothing beyond it. Except for a lot of snow and various shades of brown. It was time to use the tool in my hand. With the help of the binoculars, the harbor was finally visible in all its splendor. The details were still a bit fuzzy with all the snowflakes flying around but it was still a sight to be seen.

"Yes! I can see it!"  
"Good. Now… Oh no."  
"What's wrong?"  
"I forgot the camera bag in the car. No wonder I was feeling extra light on our way here."  
"What?"  
"No need to panic, kiddo. You stay put, I'll be right back."

The clock was ticking. There was no way he could do the whole trip back and forth in time.

"Hurry up, you're gonna miss everything!"  
"Don't worry, kiddo. I'm sure they will wait for me."  
"Less joking and more running, Dad!"

Dad turned around and ran as fast as he could with all this snow. My attention went back to the harbor. It was the only spot alive in town. The lights in the harbor area were moving about while the ones in the rest of town were fixed. They were probably coming from the street lamps. The zoom function of these binoculars was phenomenal. The ships anchored in the harbor were visible as if seen from a few feet. Most of them were small fishing boats with a few pleasure yachts but the one ship that had caught my interest really stuck out.

A fully operational full-rigged sailing ship dwarfed every other ship docked in the harbor. It had originally sunk in the early eighteen-hundreds but its remains had been discovered a few years ago. That was when a local private history buff with too much money had decided to restore it to life. It kept its original name, Anna Maria and was a near identical copy of the renowned Queen Anne's Revenge. They had chosen this day for the start of its maiden voyage, well its second one at least. Earlier in the week, Dad had brought me to the harbor to visit the ship during its preparation. Now was my chance to see it go. Dad had been right, seeing it up close had been impressive but it was spectacular to see it sail away from up here. If Dad would ever get to his camera, he would be able to take amazing shots of it.

As my eyes travelled along the ship masts and sails, my mind wandered. What would it be like to live a life at sea like these brave men and women did back then. Well, only for a handful of women. Most members of our gender weren't allowed on those ships, only relegated to net crafting and fishing gutting. Anyway, it would have been quite the life.

A life that was unobtainable for me. Little Chloe, standing there on this cliff, living my very ordinary modern life, looking at ships from afar and dreaming. I was missing something, I wanted more. I wanted to be on this ship but it would never happen. Mum and Dad would never have allowed it. They would give me a thousand excuses: It was too dangerous, I was too young, too unprepared... I wanted it nonetheless. This reality was boring, it needed to change. My brain went into overdrive to make it happen. The cliff disappeared, leaving instead an endlessly roaming blue sea. My feet were firmly planted on the wooden floor of the magnificent sailing ship. My first step landed on an algae that had been brought on board by one of the many waves hitting the ship. The wind blew on my face in full force. My next step brought me closer to the handrail. The air was pure, untouched by the pollution of the city but instead full of fish and wildlife. Another step and my hands reached for the rail. It was soaked by the sea. The water was so salty. How life would have been wonderful.

"Don't do it!"

A voice came from behind me, a young one, definitely not coming from Dad. The handrail disappeared as I turned my head to try and locate the source of the voice. A young boy of about my age, wearing only a very fancy old fashioned blue pajama, was standing near the bench.

"Don't do what?"  
"Don't jump!"  
"Jumping? Jumping where? What are you talking about?"

Where had this boy come from? And what was he doing near Dad's gym bag? I focused my gaze on him, trying to pierce his mind to read his true intentions but I couldn't get through his heap of disheveled brown hair. He was pointing towards my feet. Had something happened to my shoes? His problem wasn't with my shoes but with my location. I was standing right on the edge of the cliff. Blood rushed through my brain. One step back. Then another. Then five more for good measure. That was a safe enough distance from the void. My would-be rescuer was still staring with both his arms extended forward. Did he think I was trying to kill myself? Was he getting ready to grab me if I were to go toward the cliff once more? He was so wrong.

"I wasn't going to jump."  
"Oh?"

The boy looked confused, a hand brushing the back of his head.

"Why would you say that? You caught me by surprise. You could have frightened me and I could have accidentally fallen over!"  
"Sorry about that."

He looked down, his face distorted by shame. He was becoming paler and paler. My tone might have been a bit too harsh. He looked on the verge of tears. He clearly needed reassurance.

"It's okay, no harm done. I'm still here, see?"

When I took a step towards him, his expression changed. He looked frightened now and was mirroring my movement but only going backward. Something had spooked him. What was it? Had something popped up behind me? Only the cliff and the morning air. Nothing particularly scary.

"What is it?"

The boy looked for his words for a second.

"M…. My mum used to tell me a story during bedtime, a story Gr… her mum told her when she was little…"

He paused, probably trying to better collect his thoughts but it was taking far too long. Mum always smiled a big smile when she wanted to reassure me. That might work on him too.

"Go on, I'm listening."  
"A story about a girl and a boy that ran away from their parents on Christmas day. They came up here on this very cliff, something happened and they both jumped off. And… And since then, every year on the same day, they would come back as… As ghosts, revisiting this spot to admire the cliff and jump again. I…"

This story seemed familiar but I couldn't recall why.

"And you thought I was the girl in this story?"  
"I… Yes!"  
"If this was a story from a long time ago, I wouldn't be wearing these cargo pants made only last year, would I?"  
"P… Perhaps you are manifesting a modern appearance…"  
"That makes no sense… Anyway, could a ghost do that?"

Only a handful of ghosts were able to interact with the physical world and it was usually with solid structure, like wardrobes or carpets. That should be proof enough for him. I formed a snowball into my gloved hands, made it jump up and down twice to be sure it was solid enough then threw it towards the mysterious boy. The ball was supposed to hit his torso but the shot had been too high. It went a good length over his head. The boy had followed the ball trajectory then was looking at me once more but this time, he had a smirk on his face. That was a good sign.

"You could be a ghost with telekinetic powers!"  
"That would be neat, but no. I'm not a ghost. If I was the ghost of the girl you're talking about, I would probably still be wearing the same clothes and acting in the same way that happened at the time. I wouldn't be standing here, talking to you. And there would be a ghost boy right by my side. I don't see any ghost boys, do you?"

If we had been in a cartoon, a ghost boy would be standing right at my side, making funny faces at me for the boy's and the audience's amusement. But this was real life, there was no audience, no amusement, just two people standing on a cliff. The boy had also looked around and was finding amusement in the situation. His smile was now larger, more genuine.

"I don't see any, I guess you're right."

With all this nonsense, this boy was still a stranger. We had to introduce ourselves but he wasn’t inclined to be the first one to do it.

"By the way, I'm Chloe."  
"Oh, right, I'm Quentin."  
"It's nice to meet you, Quentin, but aren't you a bit cold?"  
"Well, yes. In fact, I'm starting to feel a little chilly. I hadn't expected to end up here in this weather and now that I think about it I should have prepared better."

A voice came from the path.

"Chloe? Are you still here?"  
"That's my dad calling. I'm sure we can get you to our car and find you some stuff to wear before you freeze to death."  
"That won't be necessary. My time is up. I've to go now. It was nice meeting you, Chloe."  
"Hey! Don't leave now."

My three layers of winter clothes beat his single thin layer. My coat could help him fight the cold for a little while. My hand had barely touched the zipper that he had already retreated into the bushes. That was when heavy footsteps approaching fast caught my attention. My father's figure was outlined in the snowfall.

"Chloe. There you are. I've got my Polaroid camera and the digital one I borrowed from my colleague, Steve, we will see how they both fare."  
"Did you see the boy?"  
"A boy? Which boy?"

Dad looked around him but it was too late, the boy was nowhere to be seen.

"There was a boy, right here, just a moment ago."  
"I saw no one."  
"He was wearing blue pajamas and he disappeared in the bushes."

Dad came closer to me and started inspecting me from top to bottom.

"Are you sure, Chloe? Pajamas in this weather? Are you feeling well?"

He tried to put his hand on my forehead but I pushed it firmly away.

"I'm feeling fine, Dad. I swear I saw him."  
"Well, there is no other path down here but the one I just came from so if he was around he couldn't have gone far."

Dad had left marks on the ground coming here. That gave me an idea.

"With this much snow we could track him down by his footmarks on the ground."  
"I doubt we could distinguish your marks from his. Let's see, where did you see him last?"  
"Well, he was over here. See the footmarks, right here. Then he went into this bush."

We followed the trail of footsteps that ended into the bushes. They were unoccupied. We looked around some more but found no trace or evidence of anyone else ever being here. How could it be?! The boy was right there not a minute ago. He couldn't have just vanished like that without leaving any trace. That wasn't possible. Dad might have an idea of what happened. He had a gentle smile on his face. He was seeing me stressing out and was probably trying to comfort me.

"Looks like your boy is a ninja. He must have snuck past me on my way up."

That wasn't an attempt at comfort, he was kidding me. Dad didn't believe me. He was probably thinking I had invented the whole thing.

"I'm not hallucinating, Dad. There really was a boy here."

Dad switched to his serious tone. He was finally aware of the gravity of the situation.

"Okay, kiddo, I trust that you saw a boy. But if he really was here, in this weather, he wouldn't have survived five minutes like that. And where did he come from?"  
"I… I don't know."  
"Are you sure you didn't just fall asleep for a second and dreamt it all up?"

It couldn't be, could it? Had I conjured the boy out of my reverie? It had seemed so real! Perhaps it was the effect of the snow combined with the lack of sleep that had played tricks on my mind.

"I… I'm not so sure anymore."

My mind chose this moment to reveal something to me. The story the boy had told me had been running in the back of my mind and the result of the search had finally come back. Something I saw on the news a few months ago. Mum didn't like me watching the news but she hadn't been able to change the channel in time. The body of the youngest of the McMullin boys had been discovered tangled in a fishnet. It was said he was only in his nightwear. Nobody was sure what really happened to him but the McMullin lived on a farm not far from here. They had moved and left town since then. The mysterious boy might have been the one that jumped and came back to haunt the place. Had he ever said what his last name was? Had it been him?

"It's okay, kiddo. It's early in the morning, you are still a bit tired. I should have made you eat something before going. We should go home now, we might find the boy on the way down."  
"No, you're right, Dad. It makes no sense. I might have fallen asleep and dreamt it. We are here, let's just take our pictures."

When we went back closer to the edge of the cliff, binoculars in hand, the ship had already left the harbor and was sailing away in the middle of the bay.

"Look, Dad, it did it. They are really making it work."

He had his binoculars hanging around his neck and was observing only using his colleague's digital camera.

"The zoom on this is quite astounding. Do you want to try and take a picture?"  
"I suck at taking pictures, you know that, Dad."  
"You will never improve if you don't practice, right?"

He handed me the camera and indicated several buttons on it.

"You can zoom in or out with these buttons here and this one is for when you are ready to take the shot."

He took out his familiar Polaroid camera instead. The camera, pointing towards the ship, offered me a clearer picture than the binoculars did. It must have cost a fortune. The ship was showing its back to us with the sun slowly waking up behind it. My hands stood still long enough for my finger to fire the trigger. One click and it was done. The camera laid in my hand for a second but nothing was happening. No picture came out. Silly me, it was the normal behavior of this not-a-Polaroid camera. It needed to be plugged into a computer to show the result. Dad had talked about a model where we could have seen the result immediately on a little screen integrated into the camera but this camera didn't have it. The Polaroid camera was better than the digital one in a way: I would have been able to be disappointed right away instead of having to wait until we were home to see the disaster that this picture surely was. That was enough photography for me. This exercise had filled my quota for the year and the next one at least. The camera probably wanted to go back into Dad's care anyway.

"There, I took one."

He gladly accepted the camera back and took several shots of the departing vessel. The way he positioned himself and shot with confidence was impressive. Dad had the eye for this stuff. Every shot he made was golden. With him around, why did I even bother? At least we wouldn't have to count on my photography skills to save this memory for Mum.

Arcadia Bay was slowly waking up and the vessel was getting away from it, becoming smaller and smaller out at sea. The ship had probably disappeared from the view of the harbor onlookers a long time ago. Dad was a genius.

"The view is spectacular, Dad. Thanks for bringing us here."  
"You're welcome, kiddo. I'm happy to be here with you."  
"I had my doubts at first, but it was worth it after all."  
"I have to admit, I was afraid that if I brought you to the harbor instead, you would have found a way to sneak up on the ship and leave with it."

Dad had said that last sentence with a smirk on his face but he had been right on the money. Given the chance, I certainly would have jumped on board. He needed to be thrown off his trails. Confirming he was right would probably make it go to his head.

"Me? I would never do that!"  
"Yeah, right. Let's go back home now, shall we? You must be quite famished."

My mind was full on adventure and wanted to stay in case the ship decided to make another pass. But my stomach had other ideas, it roared like a lion. There was no way to deny him that one.

"Sounds like you're right."  
"Take this to survive the trip back home."

He threw me a granola bar. With my ninja skills I had no trouble catching it. My fingers made short work of the wrapping then my mouth became self-aware. The sight of the food made it salivate profusely. It engulfed the bar whole, chewed it up and swallowed it. My mouth was asking for more but there was nothing left.

"Also I left a little something for you in the car."  
"An early present?"

There must have been a garbage can somewhere but it was hiding under all the snow. My coat pocket did the job for now. It would be properly disposed of once back at home.

"You might say that."  
"I'll race you to the car, the first one there gets to drive!"  
"In your dreams, kiddo. Not before you're sixteen. But I accept the challenge nonetheless."

Racing through the snow was a fun idea at first but ended up an exhausting affair. My P.E. scores at school were decent but my body wasn't ready for this kind of treatment. And to make things worse, Dad had never been one to let me win easily. He was resting against the car, waving at me while I finished the last meters of the race, breathing like my lungs were trying to escape. After having caught up with him, he gave me a quick hug and went to his side of the car. The passenger door opened without trouble. The cold weather hadn't frozen our doors shut, that was good news. A medium size package wrapped into a brown craft paper greeted me on the passenger seat. The box would have to wait on the dashboard just a little longer. With my bottom firmly into my seat and my seatbelt on, I proceeded to unwrap my early gift. It was a beautiful hat, made of leather and black velour circled by a red band with a sawed-on white skull on the front. My winter hat went to the side to make space for my new acquisition.

"Excellent! But isn't it the same hat that you… I mean the one the Pirate King used to wear?"  
"The very same. I recovered it at sea from my last voyage and since you didn't have a proper hat before I thought it would be fitting for you to have it."  
"Won't the Pirate King be pissed that I have his hat? I'm sure he will want it back next time I see him."  
"If you recall, the last time you saw him, he was being eaten by the Kraken. I don't see how he could have survived that."  
"The Pirate King is smart, he will find a way."  
"If he ever comes back, that won't be for a long time I'm afraid."

Wait. What was Dad talking about? He might be talking about the Pirate King in the third person but he was the Pirate King. Dad wasn't going anywhere no, was he? His happy face had been replaced by a solemn one.

"What do you mean, Dad?"  
"What I'm trying to say is… I've just got a new position at work. I'm starting in January. We will finally be able to put real money on the side towards the trip to Paris we have been talking about for so long."

It had all started with Dad promising Mum they would go to Paris for their honeymoon. They had been two young teenagers, completely broke but in love back then. And ever since Mum had reminded him that she was still waiting for their Paris honeymoon. Life continued, love was still around but the money wasn't. Then little me happened and there was even less money but Mum was keeping on asking. So Dad set to put his money where his mouth had been and set up a Paris found. He would put a little money he could into it, hoping that one day there would be enough for a decent trip.

"That's great news!"  
"Yes, it is. But it also means I won't have as much time as I used to have at home. I'll try my best but I'm not sure I'll be able to craft another epic story for you before quite some time… I'm sorry, kiddo, this time I think the Pirate King saw his last adventure."

No more adventuring with Dad? It was the end of an era. But a big girl like myself could deal with it. It wasn't like he was disappearing forever. There had to be something positive about this whole situation.

"I guess it's for the good of the family… And that means, with the Pirate King really gone, I can finally be the one ruling the seven seas! No one will be able to stop me now."  
"Always finding the good side of things, right kiddo?"  
"Always!"  
"Let's go home now, we still have a house to clean before your mother wakes up."  
"Can't it wait for tomorrow?"  
"So you have a full day to find a good reason for not helping tomorrow? I know you too well, kiddo."  
"If you say so, Dad."

The snowstorm had calmed down by now and the town was looking more and more like a winter wonderland.


	8. Shipmates wanted

There was no point trying to speak while this annoying hissing kept overloading my ears. Having to shout just to be able to continue a conversation was unacceptable. What were they doing out there? Why had someone let the window open? A loud bang resonated through the whole stall - someone must have closed the bathroom door a bit too violently - and the hissing had stopped.

"Finally! I can hear myself talk again. So where was I? Ah yes! You see: they introduce one neutron to the first atom of Uranium-235, this atom absorbs the neutron, then one of two things can happen: either it becomes Uranium-236, what the common folks call nuclear waste, but that’s the least frequent result, or it fissions into two new atoms, a Barium and a Krypton and releases either two or three neutrons. If there are still some nearby, one of these neutrons could be absorbed by another Uranium-235 and then repeats the process. Hence the fission chain reaction. Of course, the really interesting part is the energy produced by the fissions… Amelia? Are you listening? I haven't gotten any feedback from you in a while. Are you okay? Hello?"

A few seconds passed but there was still no feedback from Amelia who was supposed to be in the stall next door. I should have expected it.

"Looks like she left without telling me! Great… Just great. That might have been too much for her. Oh well, they can't say I didn't try."

The book currently opened on my lap might not have interested her but that was her loss. It had been one hell of a read so far. Except this whole situation had thrown my brain out of reading mode. Either the author had written the same line thrice in a row or I wasn't able to concentrate anymore. I had tried my best and once again I'd been rejected, this was overwhelming.

That shouldn't happen to a smart girl like myself. I could pick up any books, even two or three grades higher than my current grade and I could read and understand them with ease. But asking me for human connection? To make a friend? That was an arduous task. This was the last year of elementary school. Everyone already knew everyone else and cliques had been formed a long time ago so making a friend in this context was next to impossible for me. Yes, Dad had told me to start making friends many years ago and it was probably too late now but I had to try anyway. The concept had seemed simple at first. Dad had told me to just choose some of my classmates, go to them and say hi. And to my surprise, it had worked! Well, to a point. Jenny MacCormick had been the target for my first trial. A part of me knew it was a stupid first choice and was expecting her to reject me anyway but I had to start somewhere. I used Jenny mainly to practice the mechanics of it. The girl had grown smarter, friendlier with age and she now looked like she might be able to hold an intelligent conversation. Jenny was friends with nearly everyone in our class and was also hanging out with the big boys, so why not try to make friends with her? Once my mind had been made up, I had walked to Jenny and said hi. Just that. Hi. The instruction had been followed and that had been the end of the script Dad had given me. The next steps had to be improvised. I just had to wait for her answer and build from it. But Jenny had just looked at me with expecting eyes without saying a word in return. Not even a "hi" back. It was a waiting game. I was waiting for her to say the next word and apparently she was waiting for me to do the same. The whole thing had started to become embarrassing. The silence was finally broken by a laugh coming from behind Jenny. One of her entourage was red in the face and pointing at me. The laugh had been followed by many others, Jenny started to smile but that was all but a friendly one. No. She wasn't smiling with me, she was smiling at me. The result had been a bit more disastrous than expected. The "just say hi" tactic needed a lot of rework.

Of course Dad had waited after my first trial to reveal more secrets of the art of socialization. Engaging with people requires having things in common with them. Jenny had really been a bad first choice. My next target had to be someone more isolated. There would be less peer pressure this way. The obvious choice was the other loner of the class, the Jenkins girl. Amelia had been wearing a new green tie with a pi symbol on it. She was probably a fan of mathematics. That wasn't my favorite subject but they were still useful tools for physics so that might have been the bridge that brings us together. Of course, in hindsight, Amelia telling me that she had borrowed the tie from her big sister's closet and didn't even know what it represented might have been a major clue but it hadn't prevented me from trying.

And here I was, in the girls’ bathroom, alone, rejected once again. I was pulled out of my self-pity by the ringing of the end of lunchtime bell coming from the nearby speaker.

"Oops! I need to hurry."

The borrowed book went back into my backpack. The bathroom wasn't my usual reading spot but Amelia had to go and had wanted me to follow her here. Going out of the stall without flushing the toilet might be too suspicious even though it hadn't really been used. So much water wasted to prevent social anxiety. The doorknob was cold but not sticky. The janitor must have cleaned this room not too long before our arrival. The expected behavior of a bathroom stall door is as follow: You turn the doorknob and the door opens. Nothing had prepared me for the second step to fail. My face banged into the closed door. The knob was turning properly but the door wasn't opening. Pushing the fading blue door harder didn't change the result. I applied my whole weight against it but the door only gave a fraction of an inch before going back to its previous position. Something was obviously blocking the way.

"Well, the door is stuck and I'm screwed now."

My blood started to boil. My fist banged on the door. That didn't temper my anger but the noise might attract attention to the situation. That wasn't enough.

"Hey! Anybody out there? Anyone! I'm stuck here! Help me!"

Apparently either no one was nearby or they couldn't hear me. Unless they could hear me perfectly and were just satisfied with my current state? I didn't have time for their little games.

"This is not funny anymore, let me out!"

I stopped banging on the door for a few seconds and waited for any response. My fist was thankful for the rest. But nothing changed. Still no answer and no other sounds. Either my pranksters were being very sneaky about it or I had been left all alone. What was the point of pulling a prank on someone if you are not around to witness the victim's demise? Unless they had planned to keep me in there until after the bell rang. That was it. They wanted me to be stuck and late.

There was no telling when a janitor or another student would come around here. I needed to find my own way out. Examining my surroundings would help me in this endeavor. Two sides of the stall were against the wall of the bathroom, the third one was separating this stall from the next one and, of course, the fourth one had the blocked door. There was a space at the bottom of each side but the one on the separation was bigger. Perhaps it would be large enough to let me pass through. I lowered myself and tried to squeeze my head under the stall but there was not enough space. I wasn't a huge girl, never did more sport than the school required nor was I eating like a pig but this space was really too small for me. The engineer that had designed these stalls had probably thought about people trying to sneak in and out from under them. Anyway, the way down was a no go. Perhaps the way out was up. The top of the stall walls weren't connected to the roof of the bathroom. Climbing the walls was the next option. It was all about choosing the proper stall wall for the job. Using the side with the door would be a good idea on paper, the doorknob providing a hold. But the door side was higher than the other and the doorknob would never support my weight. It was made of cheap plastic. Not solid metal like the ones we had at home. The side to consider was the one with the separation to the other stall. At first glance there was nothing to hold on to. Putting climbing to the side, a high jump could be enough to reach the top of the stall's wall. Then it would just be about hoisting myself over it. Except standing jumps hadn't been my forte. A few failed attempts proved the top to be too far out of reach.

I was doomed to wait for someone to come and rescue me. I had become a cliché, rendered into a simple damsel in distress. That was unacceptable. There had to be another way. One item in my surrounding had been overlooked. Mainly because it was attached to one of the sides that were against the bathroom's walls. The toilet. The toilet had a toilet seat that could be climbed on and it wasn't too far away from the separation wall. But jumping from the seat might be not enough. From the water tank though... that was another matter. It might be at just the right height. The plan was simple: climbing the toilet's seat then the water tank and finishing with a jump to the top of the wall. I could do it. The toilet seats were made of plastic, not really meant to support the whole body weight on its own but it would surely hold long enough for my needs. On the other hand, the tank was made of solid porcelain, or was it ceramic? Anyway, it wouldn't mind my weight at all. I just had to be careful not to slip up on it. These things are so smooth. That was it, my way out. If all went well, freedom could be mine in a few seconds. To minimize the risk of breaking the toilet seat, I removed my backpack and threw it over the wall. There wasn't anything fragile in it, it would be fine. I took a deep breath and readied myself to Lara Croft my way out of this stall.

My left foot was firmly placed on the seat, trying to move it left and right to make sure it wouldn't wiggle from under me. It was not the time to go swimming in toilet water. The toilet seat was cooperating. Once my whole weight went onto it, the seat bent a little but was taking it like a champ. As soon as my right foot joined the left one, my sense of balance abandoned me. Grabbing the nearest pipe was my only way to stabilize myself. The whole plumbing moved a little but was standing strong. My legs were wobbly but it was too late to back down. My left foot was settling on the toilet tank when a cracking noise came from under me. A small fissure appeared on the seat's lid. The water tank had to do its job because the seat was ready to break down. Standing tall on the slippery surface of the water tank wouldn't have been possible without the assistance of the pipes. Unlike the toilet seat, the tank was very sturdy. It hadn't reacted at all to my presence. The top of the wall was so close. I took one last deep breath, unclasped the pipe and made the jump. I held on to the edge with both hands then pulled myself up. My left leg was dangling on my old stall side while my right leg was on the other stall. This stall was empty. Amelia hadn't been sticking around hiding in there this whole time. No one would mind me jumping in there. When trying to move my other leg over it hit the wall. It was no problem. Advancing my position a little made enough space for the leg to cross over. Like a true ninja, my feet landed on the space between the toilet and the door and neither on the toilet itself nor on my backpack. This epic obstacle was finally beaten. Bongo was going to be so proud of me when he would hear of it. My legs and arms still hurt from the unexpected effort. They would need a full week without physical exercises to properly recover. My backpack went back on my back and my hand hit the new stall's doorknob. O funny it would have been if this door had been locked as well… But, to my great relief, this one didn't protest. Freedom at last! I had one last thing to check before running to my next class.

Someone had moved the feminine hygiene product dispenser against my stall's door. How could they have done that without me noticing it? This thing was huge and blocking access to several sinks as well. The right thing to do would be to move it back to its original place but this beast was huge. This kind of heavy lifting was better left to the professionals. I didn't have time for that anyway. Amelia was probably not the culprit, being of a smaller stature than me, there was no way she would have been able to move the dispenser on her own. If she had had any part in this prank, at least she hadn't acted alone. As to who was probably pulling the strings behind this whole operation, there was one obvious candidate. A certain ginger girl and her entourage. Perhaps when the adults would find out about this mess, an investigation would be started. In this case they wouldn't find any of my prints on this machine.

Long gone were the days when everyone would just let me be. What had happened to them all? Perhaps they all got bitten by something during the summer or it was just their hormones kicking in but my classmates had been bothering me more and more since the start of the school year for some reason. It couldn't go on forever. Things would calm down eventually and go back to the way they were.

The two computer classes were on the second floor - they had finally found a use for those upper floors - but we didn't have a dedicated room for each class. The teacher would tell us which one we would be using on a day to day basis. A weird system for a weird school. It meant I had no idea which room I had to go to. Thankfully, each door had a little window, perfect to peek in preventing me from having to open them to check which one was the right one. The first room was full of students but none of them were from my class. The second one it was then. I didn't bother knocking first before entering. Since no one was waiting outside, the session had obviously already started and I didn't want to attract more attention. The door silently slid open, letting me enter the room undetected. Everyone was already seated in front of the computers. My teacher, Mr. Fermi, was hunched over Gregory's shoulder, apparently helping him set up his desktop. He had his back to the door. The only available station left was at the back of the room. There were a lot of people to go through to access it. But that was no problem for Ninja Chloe. My feet were lighter than a feather, gliding through the tiled surface of the computer room without making any noises. My chair didn't squeak when my bottom landed on it. The whirring of the booting computer at my feet was drowned out by the other already running computers. It was as if I had not been late in the first place.

Our first computer class of the year had been a breeze. We had a PC at home already, although not quite as modern as the ones in this room. Dad had already taught me about the different parts of the machine, how they are all connected to each other. He had shown me how to plug in and configure the modem. We were connected to the internet. The internet. What a wonderful invention. How had people been able to live before that?

We were in the twenty first century and everyone had had the occasion to handle a computer, whether in their home, at their friends’ or in a library. This computer introductory course should have been taught way sooner. The school had been slow to implement the computer courses in the curriculum and had only started teaching this class this year and only for the last two grades. This was basic information that should be part of the common knowledge of any kids these days.

A handful of classmates were focusing on their screens and, whatever they were looking at, it had probably nothing to do with the current lesson. A few Neanderthals were having a paper throwing fight on the other side of the room while the poor Gregory who had been completely overwhelmed by the first lesson, was still trying to figure out how the mouse and keyboard worked. The rest of my classmates were all uninterested in the subject. They were either reading magazines, chatting among themselves or just catching up on some Zees. It seemed there wasn't any other future engineer in this classroom.

The teacher stood up from his computer and cleared his throat.

"Alright, people. I'll give you five more minutes then we will start today's lesson. I'm sure you are all eager to learn what the topic is. It's spreadsheet and word processor. What they are and how to make them work to your advantage."

My word processor was launched in barely two clicks. My station was all ready to work. Meanwhile, a vast majority of my classmates were booing the teacher, even though half of them didn't know what a spreadsheet was in the first place.

"Please! Don't rejoice all at once."

He was taking it all in jest. This guy’s happy mood was hard to break.

"Fine. You can use the next ten minutes to finish up."

The booing calmed down. Apparently the task he had given them earlier was more interesting than today's lesson.

"I see that Miss Price finally decided to join us."

I jumped on my seat. My attention had been so focused on my screen that I hadn't noticed Mr. Fermi standing next to my station. Wasn't he next to his desk on the other side of the room a second ago? He readjusted his round glasses on his nose with one hand while holding a CD-ROM with the other.

"I gave one to your colleagues at the start of the class. It's a little something to check out before the lesson. It's a…"

He hadn't noticed during our previous lesson that treating me like a first grader on this subject wasn't necessary. A CD-ROM was no mystery to me.

"I know what this is."

The teacher was holding it all wrong, with one finger on each face. My thumb went to the outer side of the disk while my index pressed the inner side. It had my full name written in black ink on its cover. Opening the CD tray wasn't rocket science. A simple push of a button was enough. It could be opened from the computer itself but the number of manipulations required to achieve the same result took longer than the physical solution. The plastic handle moved at a slow paste but ultimately stopped after a while, letting the disc slide in then went back in slowly feeding it to the computer case. Usually when loading a CD ROM, something would immediately pop up on the screen but after a few seconds of waiting nothing was happening. This one was clearly not working. Thankfully, the teacher hadn't moved from his position.

"Isn't something supposed to pop up?"  
"I'm afraid I didn't have time to set up an auto-run. Just go to the file explorer, find the drive assigned to the CD player and open its main folder. Using your mouse, you want to look for the…"

I rolled my eyes. There he was at it again.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's the icon right here."

The file explorer window opened over the word processor. Expanding the tree of the D drive revealed only one available folder, named OTP. OTP? The acronym that came to mind was probably not the right one.

"One-Trick Pony?"

The teacher was dumbfounded by my question. He looked at the screen then had a smile.

"Hehe, no. It stands for Oregon Together Program. It's an application the State created so that every school student has a way to get together outside of school and share their experiences and other things. You will have access to the OTP server via this client software. Now you want to copy the content of the disc into a folder of your computer. You can keep the disc so you will be able to install the client again elsewhere. I know you have a computer at home for example. To start the program, you have to find the executable file. Of course, you are going to tell me you already know which extension the executable file has."

I smiled at him, selected the main folder, pressed two keys on the keyboard, went to the C drive, pressed another two keys and waited a second. Then I opened the newly created folder and looked for the file with a name ending in .exe.

"And she isn't even using her mouse to copy/paste, what am I even still doing here? You already know everything! I wondered if it would have been the same if the school had chosen to go the Apple route."

Why was he mentioning fruits all the sudden?

"Apple?"  
"So there is still a use for me after all. Apple is the other big company, they are developing the Macintosh family of computers. Next year, if the school grants me the funds, I might be able to show you how they work. Anyway, the school has assigned a personal login for each student. There is yours. It's linked to your school email address. You will be prompted to choose your password when first logging in. Your password is important, try not to forget it. They haven't put an automatic password recovery system on yet. Once you are logged in you will have to input your screen name and then I'll let you discover the rest. Since you're all set up here, I'll just continue my rounds now. If you have any questions, put your hands up but I'm just you will do just fine."

The teacher had barely had time to finish his sentence when someone shouted from the other side of the room.

"Professor? My screen turned blue all the sudden and now it's black. I think I saw some smoke coming from behind the computer case. Is it normal?"

Some people should never have been allowed near anything electronic.

"Looks like I'm needed elsewhere. Enjoy yourself Miss Price."

He straightened himself then hurried to the rescue of the student in distress while speaking a bit louder than usual.

"What did you do, Mr. Moose?"

A double-click later, the program started by greeting me with an orange and yellow pop up displaying the State of Oregon logo with the program name at the bottom. It stayed up a few seconds then disappeared to be replaced by a simple grey and white interface where my first and last names were displayed, followed by a series of numbers that were probably my identification number. A textbox stood between the label "Screen name" and a greyed out "Go" button. They were expecting me to enter a screen name so I typed "Chloe Price" in. The go button wasn't grey anymore and the enter key activated it as well as a click would have. A red text appeared below the button displaying the following message: "Invalid character detected. Please use alphanumeric characters only."

"They are really picky. Okay, no space then."

With one space removed and the enter key pressed once more, the interface changed into a panel containing three tabs. The active one was named #WelcomeToOTP, it contained a small tutorial on how the application worked. Apparently the other two tabs were called channel; one was accessible for every student of the State of Oregon while the other was exclusively for the students of our hometown. Each channel had three distinct panels, the first one at the bottom was a textbox where I could type anything I wanted. Pressing the enter key or clicking the "send" button would send my text to be displayed in the other panel in the middle of the screen. Other people's texts would also be displayed in this same section. And the third panel was along the right side of the screen and contained a list of the students that were currently present on the channel. Why did Dad never allow me to install one of these programs on our computer at home before?

The second tab, named "#Oregon", greeted me with the expected three previously mentioned panels. The right one already had a huge list of names on it. So long it couldn’t be contained entirely on only one screen. Checking the full list required a whole lot of scrolling down. All these different names but none of them looked familiar to me. The central panel was never-ending waves of texts. How could anyone follow any conversation in this mess? The channel was too busy for my liking. What was happening on the other ones?

The #ArcadiaBay channel had only about twenty users on. That was more reasonable.

"SunFlower, TeddyBear, BlackPantsHER, 80085… Who came up with these names?"

At least the central panel was readable this time.

\---

*** Welcome to #ArcadiaBay, feel free to say hi!  
* ChloePrice just joined the channel  
Weed420: How long do we have 2 stay here?  
AwesomeBoy: i dunno, beats normal class tho  
TinyDrum: do U smell smoke?  
WiiZaRd: Wow you can change the background color  
SunFlower: How do u do that?  
TinyDrum: i think sumthing on fire  
AwesomeBoy: press the alt key then the F4 one  
BlackPantsHER: dont do that  
* SunFlower just left the channel (Disconnected)  
AwesomeBoy: LOL  
BlackPantsHER: idiot!  
TinyDrum: never mind thats just Greg's computer  
WiiZaRd: So did we find out who TinyDrum is yet?  
AwesomeBoy: definitely not Greg  
BlackPantsHER: might be Jake?  
TinyDrum: yes, I'm Jake! LOL  
TeddyBear: Cant be Jake  
BlackPantsHER: why?  
TeddyBear: Hes not here today, u idiot!  
WiiZaRd: LOL

* * *

The tutorial was one click away and helped me understand this mess. Each line starting with a name between angle brackets was a text sent by another user while lines starting with an asterisk were action or event happening to a user, or messages coming from the software itself. I started to get my head around the whole thing.

It was clear that no one had waited for me, many conversations were already going on. There was no way to follow them all at the same time. Since everyone was talking with everyone I could just pick an individual target here to find some common ground with. All I could do was jump right in and try to fit in as best I could. It was time to go back to the basics and try the first step again. It might work better in a crowd. I typed "hi" at the bottom, pressed enter and waited for my line to be displayed in the center panel. It showed up almost immediately and was soon followed by my peers' reactions to my arrival. At least it was a confirmation that not all messages had been prerecorded.

* * *

ChloePrice: hi  
MelBlacnSucks: oh noes!  
YellowTruck: Everyone, look who just joined  
WiiZaRd: What a loser, she used her real name  
BOOP: Looks like she didn't get the memo  
TeddyBear: Wont be a problem to guess who ChloePrice really is  
2Young2Learn: I thought she was supposed to be smart  
TeddyBear: She didnt get the memo cause she was late  
BOOP: Yeah, I think she had an accident  
TeddyBear: She was all sweaty when she arrived!  
WiiZaRd: She must have fallen in the toilet  
BOOP: LOL  
MelBlacnSucks: LOL  
* MrBear just joined the channel  
MrBear: Yay! It's finally working!  
WiiZaRd: About time  
YellowTruck: Hey MrBear! How are you doing?  
TinyDrum: what’s with U guys and the word bear in ur names?  
YellowTruck: MrBear?  
* MrBear just left the channel (Timed out)  
WiiZaRd: And he's gone again  
* SunFlower just joined the channel  
SunFlower: That wasn't funny  
AwesomeBoy: GUYZ! Greg just sat on his disc!   
TinyDrum: noway  
AwesomeBoy: i swear!  
TinyDrum: LOL he broke it in 2  
AwesomeBoy: classic Greg

* * *

My fingers were hovering over the keyboard but they weren't typing anything. My eyes were fixed on the screen for several minutes. The conversations were scrolled down and down. It wasn't stopping. What exactly was I supposed to do or say here? The ones that had responded had been either pretty mean or completely ignoring me and I had no way to know who really said what, since they were all using cleverly picked nicknames. Why had I been dumb enough to use my real name? That had been a grave error. Setting this aside, how was I supposed to start a conversation with anyone? The first step had failed again. I knew no one in town really worth talking to that could be present in this chatroom and even if I knew anyone I wasn't going to ask right in the open if they were here. They were all using nicknames to stay anonymous. I had to start over. Changing my screen name would surely make them stop teasing me since it would make me as anonymous as they were.

The #WelcomeToOTP would have been the place to check for instructions on how to change nicknames but the tutorial was lacking in that regard. Since the prompt to choose my screen name had happened at the start of the application, perhaps rebooting the software would have allowed me to change it again.

A click on the right top corner cross to close the application and a double click on the .exe later, I was immediately greeted by the three tabs. There was no prompt, no option to change my screen name. Nothing.

"Well, that sucks."

My only option left was to ask for help from the teacher. He would have a field day about it, for sure. No, Mr. Fermi wasn't a mean person, he would just be happy to help me. I threw my arm up. He answered almost immediately.

"Yes, Miss Price?"

I had to choose my words carefully, I wouldn't want to attract unwanted attention from my classmate. I didn't mention the problem directly.

"I think there's something wrong with the software."  
"Let me see."

He stood by my side and looked at the screen.

"What seems to be the problem?"

I lowered my voice enough so that no one but the teacher would be able to hear me.

"I can't change my screen name."  
"Right, sorry about that Miss Price. I'd mentioned it at the start of the class but you weren't here. You can only choose one screen name per installation and you have to stick to it."  
"So I'm stuck with this one forever?"  
"For the time being, I'm afraid so. They talked about adding this feature soon. Perhaps for the next patch."  


"Great, that's just great."

Mr. Fermi bent over a little to get closer to the screen then moved back up, removed his glasses and cleared them with a tissue.

"Don't worry too much about it, Miss Price. It could have been worse. I see nothing wrong with your current screen name. I'll check in the teacher's manual tonight, to see if I can find a way to do anything about it, but for now, I'm sorry I can't do anything more to help you."

He pocketed his tissue, put his glasses back on and went back to the blackboard.

"Okay, everyone, listen up please. I know I might have made a mistake in giving you your dessert before the main course but we have many other things to go over before the end of the class. So pay close attention. This next application is the backbone of our current work culture. There is nearly a hundred percent guarantee that you'll have to use it at least once in your future career…"

This dessert had left a bitter taste in my mouth. I closed the OPT software and tried to focus my attention on the rest of the lesson.


	9. Tomfooleries

Thank Poseidon, school was over for the day. If anyone had told me a year or two ago that these words would ever come out of my mouth, I wouldn’t have believed them. Once the bus driver had stopped honking at a black van blocking the way and had properly parked at the bus stop, I jumped off and ran to my house. Once behind the front door, all my troubles would be left behind for sure. That was if I was ever able to reach the inside of my house. For the second time in the same day, I found myself in front of a locked door. This time it was entirely my fault. I had forgotten Mum had the evening shift and wouldn't be home until later. That was why they had invented spare keys. My set was attached to a keychain that held the spare key to the toolshed and garden as well. I plunged my hands into my pockets to retrieve said keychain but the search ended up fruitless. What were these damned pockets useful for if not for holding my keys? Where were they hiding? Had I put them in my vest? Another quick search voided this hypothesis. If they weren't in the vest, they might have slid down my backpack. I set it on the ground and started rummaging through it. Despite having overturned everything inside it, the keys were still nowhere to be found. This day was getting worse and worse. At this rate, I wouldn't have been surprised if an anvil or a piano had decided to fall onto my head next. I couldn't wait to be in my bed and finally reach the end of this miserable day. But I still had a major problem. My bed was on the other side of this locked door. That was too much. My anger manifested into a scream.

"Where are my damned keys?!"

Once the boiling blood that had shot to my head had calmed down a little, I was able to hear muffled meows coming from above. Bongo was watching me from the bedroom window, holding in his teeth a familiar metal chain from which were dangling my precious keys. My savior had come to my rescue once again. Was it a sign I would finally be catching a break? He opened his mouth and the keys dropped down right into my welcoming hands.

"Thanks, Bongo! You're the best!"

A click, a knob turn and the front door finally opened. The end was near. Although all thoughts of going straight to bed evaporated once my stomach made a deep cry for help. Skipping a meal wasn't in the cards for me. Instead of heading upstairs, I turned to the kitchen. My backpack went sliding along the table as I retrieved some bread and a jar of chocolate peanut butter from the shelves. Apparently Bongo had anticipated my mood and had joined me downstairs. He jumped on the kitchen counter to supervise the meal preparation. Had he come to cheer me up or had he been attracted by the sweet smell of peanut butter and chocolate?

A good sandwich preparation needed the proper tools. The butter knife with the red handle was perfect for the job. It left the comfort of its drawer to join the spread jar on the counter. I tore off the top of the bread wrapping and brought the opening close to my nose. Hmm, the perfect smell of freshly opened bread! Two slices should be enough for now. Or did I need a third one? No, that would be too much. Mum would be upset if I wasn't hungry enough for dinner. Perhaps someone else was interested in it.

"Bongo, do you want a slice?"

He shook his head then jumped on the kitchen table instead. He seemed to be more interested in my backpack as he started to scratch at it. Was he so eager to know what I had learned today?

"I know, Bongo, let me finish this first, I'll do my homework afterward! It's not like I have a lot to do today anyway."

I returned to my task, unlocking the jar and plunging the knife in the creamy paste. I applied layer after layer of the spread on the slice of bread, making sure that every corner of the bread's surface was properly covered. This manual activity had a surprising relaxing effect on me. It was as if I were a monk, raking away at my white sand garden. All my troubles were gone. The only things left were myself, the knife and the spread. The peaceful activity had been exactly what I needed. If I wasn't careful I could get lost in the moment and continue spreading paste forever. Or until I'd run out of bread.

An unexpected noise brought me back to reality. A short skirmish was happening behind me that ended in a click. After a battle with the poor excuse for a lock, Bongo had found his way inside my bag. He was now rummaging through my stuff. Had I forgotten some food inside it? That wasn't it, if he had been hungry he would have accepted my peanut butter and chocolate toast. Unless he was feeling picky…

"Hey! I swear, I'm not keeping any catnip in there, get out of my bag."

Peanut butter and fur didn't mix well. The butter knife rested on the counter while I grabbed Bongo by the back of the neck. That is the spot cat mums use to get hold of their kitten. I rooted him out of the bag and settled him on the other side of the table. He had something shiny in his mouth. He had gotten hold of the CD case Mr. Fermi had given me earlier in the day.

"Give it back."

Bongo started to chew on it. He wasn't going to have a healthy meal with that.

"Hey! Don't do that, I might need it later!"

Pulling the CD didn't work. Bongo was having none of that. He had a solid grip on it. Dirty tactics were required. My fingers ran along his chin, right below his favorite spot. He was very ticklish there. A few seconds of this treatment and he couldn't take it anymore. The case went free. I grabbed it quickly before he went back for it and shooed him off the table. The case had some teeth marks on it but they weren't deep. It would survive another day. My mind wandered back to the content of the CD; this software had potential, I just hadn't had a chance to really get into it yet.

"Hmmm. Homework can wait, we could give it one more try."

I balanced my two slices of bread on the one hand, kept the compact disc in the other and went to the garage. The delicate tapping of paws coming from behind me indicated that Bongo was following.

Dad hadn't found a proper place for the computer yet. There was no space in the living room, unless we wanted to get rid of the TV. We all had a good laugh about that one. I suggested putting it in my room but Mum and Dad had been quick to reject this idea. So the computer had ended up in the garage. With Dad spending most of the week on the road and only being at home during the weekends, this computer had been one of the main ways to communicate with him. Emailing back and forth couldn't replace a warm conversation on the phone which really pales compared to a real face-to-face conversation but it was easier on the phone bill and we were always available at the same time so this way we could still talk even if it was in an asynchronous fashion.

With the computer booted up and the disc loaded, I repeated the installation procedure then started the application. Would I be able to choose my nickname or would I forever be stuck with my current one? It was time to find out. Bongo jumped on the computer table and was now transfixed by the screen, a puzzled look on his face. He put a paw on the application logo. It seemed he needed an explanation on what was going on.

"So this is a chat software. We can talk to other people from town with it."

Bongo frowned at me. Had I said something wrong? What was so confusing about it? Was he wondering why I was using that? Was he disturbed by the fact I was trying to talk to other people? Was he thinking I was going to replace him? He should already know why I was doing that and he should really know by now that no one would ever replace him. I sighed.

"Why am I even trying to communicate with the town folks you ask… Don't you remember what Daddy said last week?"

I took a deep breath, put on a severe face and tried to imitate Dad's voice as best as possible.

_"Chloe! You can't go on living like this, with Bongo as your only friend!"_

I might have pushed the serious tone a bit too far but at least the execution had been a success, Bongo was giggling.

"Of course, I immediately replied: _but Daddy, you're my friend too!_ I mean that's pretty obvious, right?"

Bongo was nodding his approval so I went on.

"To that he said…"

I took another deep breath and switched back to my Dad voice once again.

_"No, I am your father. You know I love you more than anything and I'll stick by you, no matter what happens, not only because I'm your legal guardian hence I have an obligation to take care of you, but also because I appreciate you as the individual person that you have become but it will come a day when I won't be able to be around and you will have to rely on others and that's when having friends will come in handy."_

I coughed then took a second to catch my breath. That had been a mouthful. Bongo was quizzingly looking at me. He was probably remembering this conversation a bit differently.

"Or something like that. I'm just paraphrasing. He might have mentioned something about mingling with people from my own generation or having an open mind about the point of view of others but he had been going on and on for a while and I didn't pay attention to the whole thing."

While I was explaining myself, Bongo took the opportunity to settle himself on my lap and was now cleaning his ears with his paw.

"Anyway, so he told me I should try to make more friends, which sucks!"

Bongo shared the same opinion. He purred and rubbed his head against my stomach.

"So here I am, trying to make contact with a decent human being in this sea of disappointments. I targeted Amelia today and it really didn't pan out."  
"You shouldn't use the term target when speaking about potential friends. Humans tend not to appreciate that term when it's referencing them."  
"So you're an expert on friendship now?"  
"I happen to have a long, stable and fulfilling friendship with at least one human at the moment, I can't say the same for you."  
"You have a point."

A digital sounding ding brought my attention back towards the screen. The application had finished loading. Our computer really was a slow one. The prompt greeting me was a welcoming sight. It was asking me to choose a screen name. A new installation had done the trick, it was good to know.

"Yes! I can change my name, I'm not stuck with my shitty first choice anymore. Bongo, which screen name should I use?"

My furry friend stared at the screen for a moment, perhaps trying to figure out if my new name would already be displayed on it, then looked up at me.

"You already know the answer to that question."

He was right, as demonstrated earlier in the day, being myself was out of the context in there. No one was interested in little ol' me. No, I had to be someone else. This new persona had to be strong and fearless. Someone that could rise above all the bullshit and be respected. And I happened to know just the right guy for the job. I rewarded Bongo with a few scratches under the chin. After cracking my knuckles to warm them up, my hands went back on the keyboard.

"Alright, hold on to your hats, here comes the most awesome pirate of the seven seas."

My fingers flew on the keys as the name of the most epic pirate appeared on the prompt. CaptainBlueBeard. The enter key immortalized my new online name. The tutorial wasn't needed anymore. It disappeared to make place for the #ArcadiaBay tab. Bongo was rolling his eyes. He was perhaps questioning the most awesome part of my statement. He had probably someone else in mind for this role but he would soon be proven wrong.

* * *

*** Welcome to #ArcadiaBay, feel free to say hi!  
* CaptainBlueBeard just joined the channel  
PeterPan: One in two trash cans  
SunFlower: Ew! U're the worst  
YellowTruck: Ha-ha!  
xxxNinJAHxxx: AlrEady knEw tHIs 1  
PeterPan: If you know them all, come up with the next one then

* * *

There weren't as many people around as before, only a handful. Some conversations were already going on but mostly at a slow paste. A simple "hi" was out of the question this time. What would a proper pirate have said in these circumstances? The perfect word came out from the lore I had picked up during my studies. Right before Avast you idiots! was sent to the chat, Bongo put his paw on my arm. He was shaking his head. He was right of course, I had made a huge mistake. That wasn’t proper pirate talk. I had to do better. After a few corrections and with Bongo approval, my greeting finally went out.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Avast ye scallywags!  
YellowTruck: LOL  
PeterPan: TF? Who talks like that?

* * *

Some were already responding to me. I had to be fast, set my foot down and show my dominance before anyone could turn it all around on me. My presentation had to be short but effective. The power carried by my name should be enough. My fingers were on fire, typing at a thousand mile an hour on the keyboard. But before submitting my response, Bongo's paw tapped against my arms once more. He was looking at me disapprovingly. Right, pirates rarely conjugated their verbs. And they ate the Gees as well. With the errors fixed and Bongo's approval, I released my newly improved response. A follow up sentence formed into my mind, containing a lot of vocabulary from my recent readings. It quickly joined my response.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: I be Capt'n Bluebeard and I don't stand for any tomfoolery comin' from ye lots.  
CaptainBlueBeard: I hear ye been scuttlebuttin' about ye fellow swabbers on here. If ye be on me ship, ye be all dancin' the hempen jib by now!  
xxxNinJAHxxx: wHAt R U t4Lkin ab0uT?  
TeddyBear: I dont understand a word he is saying!  
SunFlower: Great, another loon

* * *

Looked like I'd found my first target in SunFlower, not for friendship this time. She had to be put in her place or people would start to think it was acceptable to treat me like garbage. My next sentence, aiming at SunFlower, got a giggle out of Bongo so I sent it out with a big smile on my face.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: SunFlower be an appropriate name for ye, lass. Shining but a second before goin' back in the shadows to hide ye ugly mog.  
YellowTruck: Wow  
PeterPan: LOL, Who's this?  


* * *

Peter Pan, a famous pirate hater. Him and his lost boys would soon realize who was the boss around here.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: PeterPan, with ye green onesie and ye plumed hat on ye baby head  
PeterPan: What?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Go back to ye imaginary land before ye be shark bait!  
xxxNinJAHxxx: LOL

* * *

This Ninja guy. Trying to decipher his messages was bringing my brain on the brink of total meltdown. He couldn't write English to save his life. Ninja Chloe would have spared him out of professional solidarity but Captain Bluebeard had no such compulsion so he had to go.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: And ye, xxxNinJAHxxx  
YellowTruck: Oh Boy  
CaptainBlueBeard: I bet ye feeble hands ne'er handled anything deadlier than a butter knife!  
YellowTruck: So true!  
AwesomeBoy: do me! do me!

* * *

Who was I to deny AwesomeBoy request? It might have been low to hit below the belt but it was satisfying nonetheless and Bongo hadn't stopped me so I happily pressed the enter key.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Ney, AwesomeBoy, nobody be wanting to do ye  
YellowTruck: Owned!  
AwesomeBoy: ow man!  
xxxNinJAHxxx: h3Y izi m4N, wE R juSt k1Ds!

* * *

There was one left, he had been trying to play it cool the whole time, but that was characteristic of his type. He would be badmouthing me behind my back so he had to be put in his place as well for good measure.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: And ye, YellowTruck  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ye always be with ye big mouth opened. What do ye say I come o'er and shut it for ye?  
YellowTruck: Alright, shutting up now.  
CaptainBlueBeard: Shiver me timbers! After cleaning this poop deck, the place be almost decent!

* * *

A minute passed without any new messages and no one had left the channel either. I had their full attention. The room was completely under my control. It was energized. My brain was pumped and ready to spew at them for another hour or two but it was better to leave on a high note. It was the appropriate thing to do. One last sentence and I would be logging off.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Alright, I take me leave now, ye scallywags better behave from now on.

* * *

The computer powered down as Bongo slowly slid down my lap.

"Well, I think I'm done for tonight."  
"You didn't do much though, only barked some insults back at them."  
"That seems to be the only language they understand. Anyway, looked like it worked, didn't it?"  
"If you say so."

He licked his paw and patted himself behind the ear. He had been totally immersed in my earlier writings but now he was acting like he was uninterested.

"At least they didn't laugh at me this time. Now I need to do my homework then I'll prepare something epic for tomorrow!"

* * *

While most of the people targeted during the previous night's performance were probably my own classmates, the channel was supposed to be accessible to every student in town. It was possible that a few external observers had caught on to the action but I was still pleasantly surprised to overhear my screen name being mentioned in two distinct conversations during lunch time that weren't held by anyone I knew. People were wondering who was Captain Bluebeard, if he was a student here or someone else in town. They were all stealing glances left and right, probably hoping to figure out who this mysterious character was. My first impulse had been to correct them. They were all referencing Captain Bluebeard as a he. They were probably following a logical pattern: he was a captain, he had a beard, a blue one even, so that was a male. That had to be rectified. But, by an act of extraordinary will power, I stopped myself before opening my mouth. I hadn't really minded them thinking Captain Bluebeard was a male, that would keep them longer off my trail. Letting them think the new pirate of Arcadia Bay was a male had its benefits. The name would have a chance to grow before its owner would be revealed to the world. With the right amount of time, I could finally make something for myself. If they found out who the real person behind Captain Bluebeard was too early, there was a strong chance that it would be the end of this whole thing and I would have to go back to being plain ol' Chloe Price, most boring person in Mel Blanc Elementary.

Letting the conversations go on undisturbed, I ate quickly to have more time to work on my side project.

Once back home, I retrieved my new self-imposed homework from my backpack and read it out loud to Bongo to get his feedback. He was paying attention the whole time and once I was done, he went straight back to licking his paws.

"That didn't sound like something a pirate would say."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Have you ever heard a pirate use the expression: Once forth? Or ever used the past perfect continuous tense? You've forgotten again: Pirates only talk in the present tense!"  
"You're right! I did it again. Let me fix that really quick."

My gum and pen worked furiously on my paper. After a good half an hour of work, the edits were ready to be judged. My furry editor had relocated on the bed. The paper went right under his nose.

"There, that's better now."

He quickly skimmed the paper then yawned.

"I guess that will do."

My preparations were done and now was the time to log back on and see how it would go.

* * *

*** Welcome to #ArcadiaBay, feel free to say hi!  
* CaptainBlueBeard just joined the channel  
AwesomeBoy: look whos back!

* * *

A more compact greeting would be even more effective.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Ahoy Scallywags! This be I, Capt'n Bluebeard!  
SunFlower: Hi Captain  
BlackPantsHER: ahoy Captain  
SmartCookie: Wow you weren't kidding  
TinFoilHat: Might be someone else, we will never know for sure!  
AwesomeBoy: u can't change screen names once u choose 1, so its sure its him

* * *

Captain Bluebeard was a pirate. No respectable pirates would ever set foot in a chatroom, that was ridiculous. No, this tavern was my first stop on land after a long trip at sea.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: What kind of piss-poor establishment be this? Where be hiding the barkeep? Bring me some grubs and some rum to wash it all down.  
AwesomeBoy: i could go for some rum too  
SunFlower: Right, like u could drink that  
AwesomeBoy: i already have! many times!  
SunFlower: I don't believe u  
* VVROOM brings a plate of sausage and a pitcher of rum to CaptainBlueBeard  
YellowTruck: Hey how did he do that  
PeterPan: How can you write like that?

* * *

Peter Pan was asking the right question. How could VVROOM write a message without the normal conversation formatting? The tutorial had mentioned events and actions in passing without providing any examples. Could that be it? This VVROOM fella had found a way to use them. The proper response in this situation was to go with it and accept his offering. Who was I to refuse a good sausage and rum?

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Aye! That be satisfactory, for now.

* * *

Something blinked once on the top of the screen. A new tab had pop up right next to the #ArcadiaBay one, with the name "@VVROOM". Clicking on it opened a small version of the chat panel with a few sentences already typed by VVROOM. It was as if he had been able to read my mind.

* * *

VVROOM: Yo Captain!  
VVROOM: You can type /ME before yer sentence if you wanna do an action instead of normal talking

* * *

So this application had an option for private talk. The tutorial was clearly lacking. Excited to play with the new functionality, I went back to #ArcadiaBay to try it out. I typed the new command, described my reaction to VVROOM offering and pressed the essential enter key. This key and I were becoming fast friends. The result was satisfactory. It was time to continue interacting with the tavern’s other customers.

* * *

* CaptainBlueBeard devours a sausage whole then empties the pitcher straight up  
CaptainBlueBeard: Why is the rum always gone? Barkeep! Anyone!  
* VVROOM comes back with a refill  
* CaptainBlueBeard bottoms up the next one  
CaptainBlueBeard: That be better!  
SunFlower: CaptainBlueBeard, are u a real pirate?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Aye, that I be!  
PeterPan: With a peg leg, a parrot and everything?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ney! That be only for movie pirates! A real pirate ne'er need these props!  
AwesomeBoy: do you know Captain Blackbeard?  
SunFlower: Have u ever kill anyone?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Blackbeard ye say, AwesomeBoy? Never heard of him, must be an impostor  
MelBlacnSucks: right, a real pirate my ass!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Killin' be part of the job me lass  
SunFlower: Have u ever sail on a boat?  
AwesomeBoy: come on SunFlower, he's a pirate, of course he has!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ha-ha! I sail no boat me lass, but I be spending half me life on a ship  
SunFlower: I always wanted to sail in a boat but my daddy never allow me on his  
AwesomeBoy: why not?  
SunFlower: He says fishing boats are too dangerous for children  
SunFlower: Captain u must have seen lot of things  
CaptainBlueBeard: Aye, I have a few stories under my belt  
SunFlower: Oh stories! Tell us one!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ye be wanting a story eh?  
AwesomeBoy: yes please!

* * *

I had hoped all this time to find a way to introduce the story I had prepared but SunFlower had delivered it perfectly. I gathered my papers and ready myself to burn the keyboard down.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Alright. Gather 'round and heed me words, lads. I be tellin' ye an epic tale.  
PeterPan: Excellent!  
xxxNinJAHxxx:h3Y guYz, 1 g0t a G0od 1 4 U  
CaptainBlueBeard: The tale of the Delavega treasure.  
xxxNinJAHxxx: whAT's bR1ght bLu3, p1nk n s1zzL3s?  
AwesomeBoy: SHUT UP Ninja, it's not the time!  
xxxNinJAHxxx: Wh4t?  
AwesomeBoy: scroll up!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Be a long, long time ago, a conquistador goin' by the name Marco Delavega be raiding an ancient Inca village and be findin’ a mountain of gold.  
CaptainBlueBeard: He and his crewmates, they put it all on his ship, the Llena de gracia, and they be sailing for their homeland of Spain.  
AwesomeBoy: oh gold, that's sweet!  
PeterPan: Shut up, let him finish!  
YellowTruck: Yeah stop interrupting the Captain!  
PeterPan: But you just did it!  
CaptainBlueBeard: But ye see, The Inca gods, they be not really happy with the lad, him bein' departin' with their golds and all, savvy?  
CaptainBlueBeard: So they be summonin' a huge storm and be bringin’ it down on the fleein' ship!  
* JohnJohn just joined the channel  
JohnJohn: Hey guys!  
JohnJohn: Wow looks dead in here  
PeterPan: Shh! CaptainBlueBeard is telling a story  
JohnJohn: Who?  
CaptainBlueBeard: After a short battle with the element, the Llena de gracia be sinkin’ deep into the ocean bringin' along the whole crew. All but one lone swabber.  
CaptainBlueBeard: Because, ye see, before the storm hit, the lucky lad be pissin' his pants with fright and be jumpin’ inside a rum barrel. He be but a flotsam now.  
CaptainBlueBeard: After a few days at sea with nothin' to eat, survivin' only on the left o'er rum at the bottom of his barrel, he be rescued by a whale hunting vessel.  
CaptainBlueBeard: He be sleepin' for a whole day!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Then he tell the crew 'bout his misadventure, 'bout the cargo of his ship and its final fate. The crew, they say with the treasure in their hands, they all be rich men, savvy?  
CaptainBlueBeard: The young lad be tellin' them they were fools and they all be meetin’ with Davy Jones before e'en puttin' a hand on the treasure.  
CaptainBlueBeard: So the crew put the lad on a barque and they go after the treasure. After that, the whale hunting vessel be ne'er heard of again.  
CaptainBlueBeard: The tale be saying that the young lad find a populated island after a few months at sea and be livin' there for the rest of his life.  
CaptainBlueBeard: The day before he dies, he be drawin' a map to the last known location of the treasure. He gives the map to his son with the single warning to ne'er go there. The son talks of the map to no one. And on his own deathbed he gives the maps to his own son. This same thing goes on and on and on un

* * *

My fingers were hitting the keys but the characters weren't added to the sentence. Was it due to lag or was my keyboard dying on me? While checking the keyboard I pressed the enter key by mistake. It sent my currently written text, incomplete word included.

"Oh well, looks like there is a maximum number of characters per line, good to know."

Bongo was fixated on the screen. He was enjoying everyone’s reaction to my story so far.

"Do you see that? They're all listening to my story."

But there was no time for chitchat. An uncompleted word needed my intervention to be whole again.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Until Barros, the last son, loses the map to a game of dice. And that be the last time anyone hears about the Inca treasure... Or be it?  
CaptainBlueBeard: I be thirsty again, bring me more grog!  
YellowTruck: I want rum too!  
PeterPan: You're not old enough to drink  
JohnJohn: What was the start of the story?  
AwesomeBoy: WAIT you can't stop now, what happened to the map?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Aye! That be a story for another time.  
AwesomeBoy: no, we want more!  
YellowTruck: Another story, please!

* * *

"Look at them, they are loving it. Who would have known having people listening to my story would be so exhilarating."  
"Don't let it go to your head though..."  
"Of course not. I would never do that..."  
"Yeah, right. Perhaps you should thanks VVROOM. He helped you out with his useful tip."

As always, Bongo had a good point. I switched to the @VVROOM tab, cracked my knuckles and got ready to chat with my mysterious helper.


	10. When it rains, it pours

Captain Bluebeard was a pirate. Day in, day out, whether in public chatrooms or private ones. The proper pirate talk had to be kept up.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Ahoy! Thank for ye help back there. That be a useful trick.  
VVROOM: You're welcome.  
CaptainBlueBeard: Where be ye find this tho? I be looking e'erywhere but couldn't find any manual for this thing.  
VVROOM: Ha-ha  
CaptainBlueBeard: What be funny, swabber?  
VVROOM: Sorry, it's just...  
VVROOM: I'm picturing an old pirate in full costume -- tricorn, scars and parrot included -- sitting on a computer chair, looking over a software manual.  
CaptainBlueBeard: I be a tech-savvy pirate, Aye be I!  
VVROOM: I can see that :)  
VVROOM: I haven't found any manual for this app tho  
CaptainBlueBeard: How did you end up finding this trick then?  
VVROOM: Yer pirate accent is slipping...

* * *

Damnit. Barely five sentences in the conversation and my captain bluebeard persona was already fading away. There was no need to stress. I had a good feeling about VVROOM. He seemed like an intelligent guy so he was definitely not from my class, and he had helped me out earlier. It would be fine if I didn't keep up with the pirate talk a hundred percent of the time. As long as I didn't divulge any information regarding who I really was...

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Rats! Ye got me there matey!  
VVROOM: Hard to keep it up for so long  
CaptainBlueBeard: I've got to work on it, it's still not perfect...  
VVROOM: :)  
VVROOM: I found out that they didn't really do a whole new chat software  
CaptainBlueBeard: What do you mean?  
CaptainBlueBeard: I meant: What be ye say, powder monkey?  
VVROOM: They took an existing application and just did a reskin of it, hiding most of the functionalities they didn't like or understand.  
CaptainBlueBeard: Really?  
VVROOM: Yeah, for example, you can do that with just one command  
* VVROOM slaps CaptainBlueBeard around a bit with a large trout

* * *

This guy was typing fast but there was no way he would have been able to write the entire sentence and press enter in barely a fraction of a second. I had to know his secret.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: How?!  
VVROOM: Just type /slap and the target name

* * *

"You see, Bongo? VVROOM is doing it too. He's using the word target to reference to people as well."  
"Yeah but in this context, it’s way less creepy."

I typed the new action but in my excitement I pressed enter before having typed a name.

* * *

* CaptainBlueBeard slaps CaptainBlueBeard around a bit with a large trout  
VVROOM: I think you did it wrong  
CaptainBlueBeard: I forgot to add the target  
VVROOM: I saw that  
VVROOM: There is a lot of other commands  
VVROOM: You can leave or join an existing channel  
CaptainBlueBeard: Which one for leaving?  
VVROOM: Very simple  
VVROOM: type /close followed by the name of the channel

* * *

I promptly tried this new command. Staying in the same private chat window, I typed "/close Oregon" and submitted the command but the tab for the #Oregon channel was still open. Its chat didn't stop rolling down and my name was still in the user list. Nothing had happened.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Doesn't seem to work  
VVROOM: What did you write?  
VVROOM: Put it between quote or the command gonna try to process again  
CaptainBlueBeard: "/close Oregon"  
VVROOM: You forgot the # before the name of the channel  
CaptainBlueBeard: Oops!  
CaptainBlueBeard: It works! Tried it on our two channels  
VVROOM: You know you're not limited to these two, right?  
CaptainBlueBeard: ?  
VVROOM: With /join you can join any other channels, you just have to know their names to join them  
VVROOM: If they are not password protected that is  
VVROOM: Try to join #Seattle

* * *

I typed the mentioned command, not forgetting the # before the name this time, and a new tab appeared where the #Oregon one had been minutes ago. I also was immediately switched to the new channel. This one has seemed as bad at spamming as the #Oregon one. I tried to make anything out of these messages but they all were so random. Had Mr. Fermi known about any of these other channels and extra commands? If so why was he keeping them secret? Why would they give us access to this software with all these functionalities only to restrict us to chatting into just two channels? The close command worked well on the #Seattle channel and my private discussion with VVROOM went back at the front of the screen once again. Perhaps he knew more about the subject.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: I wonder why they didn't want us to join channels of other cities  
VVROOM: Good question. It's probably so we don't all join together to form a rebellion against the system.  
CaptainBlueBeard: LOL  
VVROOM: You can do that as well  
* VVROOM is now known as OneEyePete

* * *

That had to be another use of the /me command. He couldn't have changed his name just like that. And yet he had. The user list was listing CaptainBlueBeard and OneEyePete, no more VVROOM. A simple command could have prevented all this pain and suffering. Why had no one told me that before?

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Wait! There is a command to change name?  
OneEyePete: Yes  
CaptainBlueBeard: Our teachers really don't know anything  
OneEyePete: Type /nick with your new name and that should do it

* * *

Which name to pick to test this command? Using my real one had been a bad idea. There was no point in repeating that mistake. Bongo was shaking his head at the screen. He was probably wondering why no one else knew about these commands. His name was innocent enough, that should do it.

* * *

* CaptainBlueBeard is now known as Bongo  
* Bongo is now known as CaptainBlueBeard  
CaptainBlueBeard: Excellent! Thank you!  
OneEyePete: You're very welcome

* * *

A deep clang announcing the closure of the front door pulled me back to the real world.

“Chloe? Where are you?”  
"Bongo had turned his head towards the door.  
“Looks like Mum's home.”

By pure reflex, I turned my head towards the door to answer her. Doing so without turning my head would have worked just the same but this weird idea was stuck in my mind. The notion that my voice would have trouble finding its way out without my help. This habit had followed me my whole life.

"Hey, Mum. I'm in the garage."  
"Sorry, I'm late."

The computer clock was showing eight pm already.

"No problem, Mum. I didn't even realize what time it was."  
"Supper will be ready soon. Could you come set the table, please?"  
"On my way!"

It was time to wrap up my private chat.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: I've got to go, will you be online tomorrow?  
OneEyePete: Sure thing  
CaptainBlueBeard: Cool, bye!  
OneEyePete: Bye

* * *

I switched off the computer, waited for Bongo to jump off my lap and got up. VVROOM had been good to me but I barely knew who he was. Bongo might have picked up on something I had missed.

"This guy seems nice."  
"Let's hope he is as cool as he seems to be."  
"What do you mean?"  
"You gave up too much of your identity."

What was he talking about? Neither my real name nor my class had ever been mentioned during our conversation. Bongo must have seen my quizzing face and followed with an explanation.

"You talked about your teacher, so now he knows you are a student. Though I guess he would be dumb to think you're a real pirate."

So VVROOM knew of my student status, not a big deal.

"There are hundreds of students in Mel Blanc Elementary."  
"Yes, but only one that has a cat named Bongo. You used me as a screen name during your name change test. If he knows who you are at school, he knows you have a cat so he might easily connect the dots..."

Bongo was right. I had made a huge mistake. There was no way he wouldn't know my real identity now.

"Dammit! I blew it. I'm so screwed!"  
"We will find that out tomorrow."

The bang of a closet door closing reminded me my presence was expected in the kitchen.

"Nothing I can do about that now... Let's not keep Mum waiting."

I ran out of the garage to meet up with my mother.

* * *

I entered the kitchen to the familiar sight of Mum preparing dinner. What was unexpected though was her standing in front of the microwave adjusting its timer. She never used it to cook anything and if something needed to be reheated, she would use the stove or the oven. The microwave had been added to the kitchen only in case of emergency, when Mum wasn't around and there wasn't anything decent to eat already prepared. Even during Movie Night Mum would make popcorn out of a pan, which was always better than the one we bought at the cinema. She hadn't had time to remove her working uniform either. She always looked very classy in her diner waitress attire. Watching her turn around to greet me put me on high alert. The microwave thing wasn't the biggest surprise of the night. A huge coffee stain had spread all over her white apron and had even leaked on the button of the blue dress and she was sporting a fresh black eye and a few stitches on her lips.

"Mum!? What happened?"

Mum pointed at her apron. "Oh, this? It's nothing…"

"What do you mean, nothing?"

I rushed to her side. The black mark on her usually pristine face was really not suiting her. She was trying to keep a smile on her face but she was clearly struggling with it.

"Well, there was a little accident at the diner earlier."

I pointed at her damaged eye.

"That looks more than a little accident to me!"

She looked down and brought her hand to her face, hovering over her eye without touching it.

"I told you, it's nothing. I can barely even feel it anymore."  
"It really doesn't look like nothing to me. I want to know exactly how it happened!"  
"Well, I'd just finished making a fresh pot of coffee… you know Jacob found a new supplier and we're testing new types of beans. Our current batch has such a strong scent. It sticks to your nose, I can hardly get away from it, even now I can still smell it…"  
"Are you sure you're not just smelling the coffee from your apron?"  
"No, no. My apron smells like old cold coffee. This smell… It's stronger than that. Very overwhelming. I think I'll tell Jacob to avoid this type next time. The customers don't really like it anyway, they are so used to our old brand…"

She was lost in her story, losing track of what was important. I had to steer her back to the main subject.

"Did the coffee beans attack you?"  
"What? Attack me? Goodness gracious! Of course not, that would be silly!"  
"Then I think you're going off track…"  
"Oh, right! Right. Where was I… Yes."

She moved to the sink and made like she was taking something off of it.

"I started my rounds, holding a pot of coffee…"

She turned around and looked left and right as if trying to find something specific. She finally focused on the living room and took two steps towards it.

"When Big Earl and Harry started arguing about something… You know how these two are, always complaining about everything. Apparently they were trying to find out who is ruining our country the most and couldn't agree on the same culprit. Their argument got heated and right when I was walking behind Big Earl, he decided to get closer to Harry and jumped off his stool."

She took another step then sidestepped closer to the kitchen table.

"He clearly didn't see me. So he pushed me and I ended up breaking the coffee pot on the nearby table, I lost balance, fell and banged my head against the same table…"

She was about to mimic the event once more but I caught her right before she was about to fall head first into the kitchen table.

"Mum!"

She focused her gaze on me once more and seemed to be coming out of her story.

"Don't worry, sweetie. At least the table is okay."

How could she be still cracking jokes?!

"MUM!"  
"You should have seen Big Earl's face. He was so horrified. He picked me up and drove me to the doctor, they did a whole checkup and found nothing more than my new eye makeup. It should fade away in a few days. Big Earl even offered to pick up the hospital tab but since it happened at work, the diner insurance will cover it. See? Nothing to worry about."

She was very wrong. There were several reasons to be worried about but the look she was giving me was telling me she didn't need more words for now. I embraced her as lovingly as possible while pressing my head into her stomach. Her apron needed a serious trip to the washing machine. I fought against the foil smell and squeezed her as hard as I could.

"I'm happy you're fine, Mum. Please avoid getting knocked down by Big Earl in the future."  
"You know the guy is usually harmless, I just have to make my presence known better next time I come near him. Anyway, how was your day, sweetie?"

Mum was ready to change the subject. It was a good time to help her finish preparing for dinner. I released her from my embrace and went to grab a couple of plates from the counter. It had been a slow day at school per say so there was nothing to report to Mum on this subject. Except for our morning surprise visit. That would certainly interest her.

"It was okay. We saw our new guiding counselor. Did I ever mention her before?"  
"Mrs. Finney?"

Plates were on the table. I picked up two clean glasses from the same counter. The glasses could have been put on the plates to bring them all to the table at the same time but moving more than one item at a time increased the chance of something falling off and breaking so it was better to do two trips.

"Yes, that's the one. She showed up in class this morning and talked to us about what we wanted to do in the future and more specifically which high schools to go to next year."  
"Already? But the school year has barely started yet."

Forks and knives were next.

"Yeah, she said we have to think about it as early as possible. We should have started the high school selection process as early as last May! The admission procedure for some of them requires a lot of preparation. Unless we plan to go to the local public high school then we just…"

My tone of voice lowered to match Mrs. Finney's.

"…have to sit on our asses and wait for the end of the year…"  
"Chloe!"  
"Not my words, hers!"  
"And have you been thinking about your future?"  
"I put a lot of thought into it. I have a vague idea of what I want to do but if only our foolish old guiding counselor had done his job properly, I would have had a clearer picture of what was available months ago. We could have started this whole process so much sooner. I'm so mad at all this wasted time! He should have told us about it!"

Something was definitely wrong on this table. The cutlery had been set up all wrong. The knives had to be on the right and the forks on the left side of the plates, with the pointy end facing down instead of up. It took no time to fix this mess. Would we be needing big spoons this time? And some soup bowls? It was cold enough outside to warrant it but the opaque screen of the microwave was hiding its content. It was a mystery only Mum could solve. She wasn't paying attention to the table at all, instead she was turned towards the kitchen window. At least she was paying attention to what I was saying.

"He should have retired ten years ago. I wonder why they’ve kept him on for so long…"

Soup two nights in a row was probably not happening. I left the bowls on their shelves and went to fill up the water pitcher instead. Mum was blocking access to the sink. A little nudge made her move to the side.

"Anyway, so I had to speed up the process and it comes down to this. My first choice would be Public school. I mean, there is nothing wrong with that, right? You and Dad went there and you turned out alright. So I could do the same."  
"If you work hard, you can achieve anything, wherever you go."  
"But, as Mrs. Finney told us, we should start thinking further ahead, after high school, about what we really want to do with our lives. So that we could start to make it happen now."  
"She's not wrong but aren't you a little too young to be thinking about all this already?"  
"She said the sooner we start thinking about it the better our chances to make it a reality. Some colleges require us to have followed some special classes and not all those classes are available in public school. She said we could still be accepted in college without those if we had exceptional scores and good connections but following the prestigious classes would help us secure our future education."  
"To think at your age all I had to worry about was what to wear for the next day…"

All that was missing was some napkins. Not the disposable ones like the school cafeteria gave us but the linen one which Mum had embroidered our initials on. More work for the washing machine but less trouble for the environment Dad always said.

"Your life was easier back then."  
"We had our own set of problems at the time."

Discussing the whole school thing would have been better with Dad around but since we were already on the subject I might as well continue.

"Anyway, it's all good and well but I need to be real. Private school? That must not come cheap. And I know we are not totally poor or anything but we are not rolling in the dough either. Sending me to a private high school might not be in our budget. Sounds more like a luxury."

That had made her lose interest in her window. She turned around and looked me in the eyes.

"Chloe, you might not have noticed it but I assure you, your education is one of our top priorities. If it is just a question of money, your father and I will find a way to make it happen, don't worry about it. Your father has a kidney or two he isn't using, we might fetch a good price for them…"  
"MUM! You're kidding, right?"  
"About the kidneys? Yes. About your education? Never."  
"You mean it?"  
"Of course, sweetie."

I had been mentally prepared to go to public school next year and study extra hours on the side to insure a good score for my pre college test but this news changed everything. Those prestige classes might be accessible after all.

"She gave us some brochures and looks like our local Blackwell Academy has a competent science department. They are even talking about adding an extra fifth year for a specialization. They haven't decided if it would be Arts or Science yet. If Science wins the bid, that might help me secure a foot into MIT or Harvard even. It seemed very promising."  
"I'll talk to your father about it. I'm sure we can get some financial aid somewhere."  
"Really? You're the best Mum ever!"  
"I know."  
"So my next step is registering for the Upper Level SSAT, the upcoming test is in November but the registration's deadline is in two weeks, so I have to hurry up if I don't want to miss it. Also I can't go empty handed to this test, I have to prepare for it. On such short notice, that's gonna be a nightmare! But no stress… If I fail this one, there is another test scheduled for December. I'll have time to prepare for this one."

At least my future troubles had the effect of cheering Mum up a little.

"Looks like my little Chloe will finally have to study for real this time."

Speaking of studying, my leftover homework was still waiting for me in my backpack. Having been busy with my chat with VVROOM and all.

"Oh and on a completely different note. I might have made a new friend."  
"Wait… what? Really? That's great news, sweetie!"

Mum was too excited about this news. My friend status with VVROOM wasn't set in stone yet. Depending on the events that would occur on the next day, he might end up as another Amelia or worse, a Jenny. If Mum was too hyped up by the news she would be very disappointed when discovering my mistake. Curbing her enthusiasm would ensure a smoother transition later.

"Or not. Maybe. Perhaps. I'm not sure."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I don't know. I guess I'll find out for sure tomorrow… If I don't end up stuck in a bathroom again."  
"What do you mean again?"

Right, I hadn't talked about the previous day's bathroom incident with Mum or Dad yet. And that was probably not the right moment to bring this whole story up either. I had to find a quick way to change the subject.

"Just kidding!"  
"You better be. You would tell me if something or someone is bothering you, right?"

The look of concern on Mum's face was killing me but I couldn't say more on the subject, not now at least. I couldn't confide in her completely. She already had too much on her plate. In addition to the coffee accident, she hadn't taken well to Dad's long absence and just to make things worse, an afflux of customers at the diner had made her work harder at the diner.

"Of course, Mum. Look, the table is all set!"

At the same moment, the microwave dinged.

"Right on time, dinner is ready."

I sat down as Mum went to open the barely used kitchen appliance and removed a big glass bowl full of a brown liquid mixed with chunks of meat and other stuff. She set it on the table. Of course it was soup. I got up once again and fetched the bowls and big spoons. This soup looked very familiar.

"Is that last night's chicken rice soup?"  
"Sorry, I didn't have time to plan better for tonight. Something came up. I need to eat quickly then I have to go."  
"You took an extra evening shift at the Two Whales? But Dad isn't here tonight…"  
"No, it's for something else."  
"What is it then?"  
"You should eat your soup, Chloe, before it gets cold."

Mum seemed distracted. She was playing around with an ungrinded piece of chicken stuck at the end of her fork, dipping it in and out of her otherwise untouched bowl. Never trying to lift the utensil to her mouth. She was apparently either lost in a moment or purposefully avoid my glare. She wasn't going to leave me here alone but if she had called someone to babysit me, shouldn't they have been here already by now? I didn't want to be left alone with someone else tonight anyway.

"Can I come with?"

The question had woken her up. She uncharacteristically dropped her fork, splashing soup outside of her bowl.

"Absolutely not! This is a school night, you should be going straight to bed after supper."  
"But…"

"Chloe, please, for once in your life, don't argue."

Mum's face was sporting an expression I didn't remember ever seeing from her. A mix of fear and rage. The mood passed as fast as it came but it was a clear sign I should not continue on this path. Time for another approach.

"So, you're leaving me all alone?"  
"You're not alone."  
"What?"

My neck hurt as I had turned my head around a bit too quickly. The idea that someone might have been secretly following our conversation irked me. But there was no one else. Just Mum and me. I eased my neck suffering by slowly turning my head back towards Mum. I was about to declare the obvious when a soft bag of warm fur brushed against my leg.

"You have Bongo with you."  
"Are you sure it's legal to leave an underage child alone in her home at night?"  
"If you have any problems, you have my cell phone number."  
"Oh sure, that will help. Wait mister murderer, can I please make a quick phone call before you butcher me and wear my skin?"  
"Chloe! Goodness gracious, the imagery! Where did you pick that from? Never mind, I don't have to worry about that anyway. As if you would open the door to any strangers. The daughter I raised knows better."  
"Bongo would probably make quick work of them anyway."  
"That's the spirit."

A car horn honked loudly. Mum put her fork down and got up.

"That's my ride."

She made her way to the coat hanger leaving her bowl still full of soup.

"But you've barely touched your food."  
"I'll eat something later. I'll be back late so don't wait up. I hope to find you asleep when I come home."  
"Sure thing, Mum."  
"Now, come give me a hug."

My spoon hit the bottom of the bowl while my arms surrounded Mum's waist. The older Price was warm but she was trembling somehow. Trying to read her face was hard when only the bottom of her chin was visible. She looked down on me and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

"Everything will be alright, sweetie. Go back to your soup."

Who was she trying to reassure, me or herself?

"If you say so, Mum."

She was definitely up to something. Leaving me unsupervised at night was unprecedented. There always had been an adult with me during night time, either one of my parents or in the rare case they wanted some alone time they would call in a babysitter. They had tried to leave me with the neighbors for one night but I had asked them too many questions about their lifestyle so they hadn't agreed to do it again ever since. Mum was acting suspiciously and I had to know more.

After she left the house, I counted to ten and then opened the front door. She was entering a black van I had never seen before in my life. I didn't have a chance to look at the driver before the vehicle sped off into the distance. The back of the van was still visible. Its license plate might provide useful information. That was if the mysterious vehicle had had any.

I stood there in the front doorway speechless for who knows how long staring at the now empty street. What was happening? Where was Mum really going in this unknown vehicle? Several ideas popped up in my mind, all at once, making it impossible to make sense of anything. I needed to stop and think it through. I needed something to help me make sense of it all. That was when a familiar ball of fur came brushing against my leg once again. My savior had come to my rescue. I bent down to grab Bongo, closed the door and went back to the kitchen. I put him down on the table and sat back in front of my nearly empty bowl of soup.

"Bongo, something doesn't add up."  
"What do you mean?"  
"With Mum. She was acting all weird tonight."  
"Weird how?"

Bongo walked to Mum's bowl, sniffed at it then proceeded to help himself to the chicken part of the soup.

"First, she tried to make me believe a small shove and fall were responsible for her black eye and damaged lips. Second, she told me last night she was keeping what was left of the soup for the weekend. She wanted to save some for Dad so he could try out her new recipe. If she just didn't have time to cook, we had a lot of other things to eat besides that. Then she left us all alone to depart into an unmarked van. And she wouldn't tell me where she was going."  
"That doesn't sound like her at all."  
"At least she left me a phone number to call in case of emergency… Perhaps I should fake one and call her now. I could tell her that someone tried to come into the house or that the oven suddenly caught fire. She will come back home and then I'll be able to ask her what's really going on!"  
"How would you explain the lack of sign of break-in or the absence of fire?"  
"I'll think of something."  
"That's not a good idea and you know it. Think of something else."  
"Perhaps she is cheating on Dad! That would explain everything, the black eye, the lack of awareness, the strange car, the secrecy. She went to her lover and she can't tell me because she knows I would blab on her to Dad. I can't believe she would do such a thing to him. Taking advantage of his absence to fool around…"  
"Doesn't she still spend every evening, after you're supposed to be in bed, on the phone with your dad? She is definitely happy in her marriage, Chloe. She doesn't need to find love elsewhere."  
"I guess you're right."

This discussion with Bongo was helping me. Seeing him not being stressed at all by the situation made me realize that perhaps nothing truly horrible was happening here. I started to relax a little.

"Or maybe she is playing a trick on me. She just pretended to leave and she is just testing me to see what I would really do at home on my own at night. Perhaps she is really a secret agent and she is waiting in one of these security vans full of surveillance gadgets and she is spying on us as we speak!"

I looked around the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of a spy cam.

"I think you just lost it."  
"I should start going over every room looking for the camera she must have left everywhere!"  
"Have you considered that you might be overthinking the whole thing?"  
"Huh?"  
"Maybe she is just trying to get a night out. I'm not sure if you noticed but before your father started to work the whole week, she used to have book night with her friends. When was the last time you saw her do something for herself?"  
"Why would she be secretive about it then? She could just tell me."  
"Right, like you wouldn't interpret it as anything but Hey, Chloe, I'm abandoning you for the night 'cause I'm sick of your face, see ya tomorrow or never!, I'm sure you would take it so well…"  
"Stop it! She never said anything like that!"  
"I'm sure she is at least thinking about it."  
"She would never do that. Why do you have to be mean to her like that? Is it because she wanted a puppy and we got you instead?"  
"She never treats me like I'm part of the family…"  
"Have you tried talking to her about it?"  
"That's funny, Chloe. Very funny. Just let her have her night out. I'm sure she will explain everything in the morning. And you have bigger fish to fry anyway."  
"What do you mean?"  
"You have to figure out what you're going to do tomorrow once everyone knows you're really Captain Bluebeard…"

This trouble with Mum had me forgotten that I might be losing my short lived online identity soon.

"Dammit! I forgot about that! Okay, let's not panic! First things first."

I dumped the rest of Mum's bowl with the rest of the soup and put the glass bowl back into the fridge. The dishes went into the sink. A quick wash and they would be left to dry on the sink counter. No need to use the dish-washing machine just for a couple of items.

"Now, let's go back to my room and we will figure something out."

I could try to work on a solution to my problems or I could just hide under the protection of my soft quilt. The second option was so much easier but it didn't last long. Bongo stepped on my stomach.

"Hiding in your bed won't solve your problems."  
"Shhh. It helps me concentrate."  
"Whatever you say."

My stomach wasn't being stepped on anymore. Had my furry friend abandoned me mid conversation? I picked out from under my protective sheet to check it out. Not at all. Bongo was making himself comfortable at the foot of the bed.

"So I could tell mother that I'm sick and I can't go to school tomorrow."  
"And how would that help exactly? What would you tell her for the day after? And the day after that? You can't stay sick forever…"  
"Right, right… I could hire someone to go to school and to act as Captain Bluebeard!"  
"That could work… If you could find someone in less than twelve hours and explain what he is doing on school grounds."  
"Dammit! Stop finding holes in my solutions!"  
"Stop bringing up stupid ones then."  
"I could just flat out deny it. Nope, wasn't me. Bluebeard you say? Never heard of him! Do you see any beard on me? Can't be me!"  
"I know your classmates are all a bunch of dumbasses but they won't fall for that."  
"A girl is allowed to dream."  
"Yeah but a girl has to remember to live in the harsh reality some time as well."  
"I guess I just have to be brave and accept they found me and just… Move on. Give up on this new identity and find another way to make friends. If I don't succeed here, I'm sure I'll find a way to make some next year at Blackwell Academy. I doubt many of my peers will be there with me, so it will be a new hunting ground with a whole bunch of new targets that know nothing about me yet!"  
"Again with comparing people to targets…"  
"Sorry, I can't help it."  
"Before thinking about Blackwell, you will have to survive this year. Do you know how many pirate-related pranks they could unleash on you? You might not even make it to the end of the year."  
"You're right! I have to think about all the ways they will find to make my life more miserable. If I anticipate their actions and prepare accordingly I should be able to make it. I need to write this down!"

I threw the quilt at the foot of the bed, covering an unsuspecting Bongo, jumped out of bed and ran to my desk. I switched on my glowy bear and went through my school bag to fetch some paper sheets. The sheet of math exercises that was supposed to be my homework was waiting for me between two textbooks. It went on top of the blank ones. My bottom was comfortably settled on my desk chair. My pen was uncapped and ready for use. There was so much work left to do. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Chloe! Your ride to school arrives in ten minutes, hurry up or you're gonna miss breakfast!"

It was too early to be the morning already. Everything was still dark. Or it was just my eyes that had trouble opening yet. What was my glowy bear doing so close to my face? And why was my bed so stiff this morning? I straightened up only to have my back hit a solid plastic surface. That was definitely not my bed. I had fallen asleep at my desk. A sheet of paper was still stuck to my cheek. I unglued it and tried to read what was on it.

"Gibberish! None of this makes any sense. What happened to me last night! I'm doomed!"

The ostriches had it right all along. Hiding my head under the pile of papers that was spread over the desk would probably make the world go away or at least they would forget about me. Wait a minute. That wasn't Mum that had called me to breakfast. It had definitely been a male voice. That familiar voice had been missed during this whole miserable week. Hearing it made all my worries disappear.

"Dad?!"

I shouted out of the chair and ran to the door. My reflection in the mirror made me stop a second. I had indeed slept in my previous day's clothes. My pajamas must have been so lonely last night.

"Dammit!"

There was no time for a shower anymore. A clean outfit would have to do. A change of clothes later, I was speeding down the stairs three steps at a time. Dad was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the morning newspaper with a warm cup of coffee set in front of him.

"Dad! You're home!"

I spread my arms around his shoulders from the back.

"Good morning, kiddo!"  
"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be away until Friday?"  
"Well, something came up so I decided to take two days' leave to come see you gals."  
"I missed you so much!"

I squeezed him tighter. If it had been up to me, I would never let him go ever again. We needed him right here, not far away.

"Aw, I missed you too, kiddo. Now, hurry up and eat something before the bus arrives."

Sir, yes, Sir! The fresh pot of warm chocolate Dad had made just for me was sitting next to the coffee one. A clean bowl was resting on the sink counter. An empty chair was waiting for me next to Dad. Where was Mum? She was usually already up at this hour. She wasn't in the kitchen. And not in the living room either. 

"Mum isn't up yet?"  
"Your mother is taking a day off, she is resting for now. I hope I didn't wake her up when I called for you."  
"Okay."

My questions would have to wait a little longer. The cereals threw themselves en masse out of their box and into my chocolate bowl. They barely had time to soak before they were scooped up and scarfed down my throat. After my third spoon, the bus bell made itself heard.

"Time to go, kiddo. I'll clean up after you."  
"Will you be here when I come back from school?"  
"Sure thing, kiddo."  
"Yes!"

My school bag wasn't in the kitchen. There was no going to school without my books. The lazy bag was waiting for me in my room at the foot of the desk. Why couldn't it have anticipated my need and gone downstairs on its own? Bongo was trying to play with a rolled up sheet of paper that was sticking out of it. There was always time for a kiss on my furry friend's head. He let me grab the bag, opting to groom himself instead. A bird would have been able to use the shortcut by the window, but only human me had to hurry down the stairs instead. The front door was already opened allowing me to reach the bus at the last second. I plucked myself down on a seat in the back by the window. My father was standing in the front doorway waving at me. He was making sure I had caught the bus. I waved back at him until the bus turned and hid my view of the house.

Sitting with my backpack still on wasn't comfortable. It went on my lap instead. A quick check was in order. I had been in such a hurry that I might have forgotten something. A sheet of paper tried to escape as the bag opened. It was my Math homework. Completed. This evening hadn't been a complete waste of time after all. What had I been doing at my desk beside that? Right, I was supposed to prepare for my online identity to fall apart. The bus was full of the familiar faces of Mel Brook students but none of them were looking at me weird or talking about me. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I settled more comfortably into my seat. The news was not out yet. Or perhaps they were patiently waiting to corner me on school grounds before starting to tease me about it.

The rest of the ride was spent thinking about the different ways they could ambush me once I would be out of this bus. The spark of joy left in me in this otherwise hellish ride to school was the thought that beside the fact that this day was going to be horrible, at least my father would be home in the evening. No need to wait for the weekend this time.

The bus parked in front of Mel Blanc Elementary and students started to leave for their classes. I was stuck to my seat. I didn't want to get up and face them. I waited it out as long as possible, letting everyone else leave the bus first. Once the driver started to get impatient and ordered me out, I got up and finally left. I was a convict on her way to the gallows. Each step outside was a heavy one. I kept my gaze down, trying to avoid everyone's eyes. They were all probably looking at me. Nothing in particular caught my ear but I couldn't bring myself to look up. I went inside the building and successfully arrived into the corridor without bumping into anyone or anything. I couldn't continue like this. I had to be strong. Bongo was right, I couldn't hide forever. I had to face reality. Let them have their laugh now and perhaps it would calm down by the end of the morning. I closed my eyes, lifted my head, braced myself and waited for the first comments to come tumbling down on me.

Nothing happened. Just a little peek couldn't hurt. No one was paying particular attention to me. The bell rang and everyone started to line up before entering their respective classes. The corridor would have been an opportune moment to drop the bomb with nearly everyone in ears range but it didn't happen.

I hurried to join my classmates. Amelia was standing a few rows from me and was throwing me a few quick and shameful looks but that had been happening frequently since the bathroom incident. It wasn't a reason to let me guard down. Perhaps they were just playing a giant prank and would unleash it once we were all inside the classroom. At any moment they would throw paper balls at me or make a snarky reference and they would be laughing. All of them I was sure. Perhaps the teacher would even join them. I had to act cool, like nothing was going to happen. If I stopped showing my anxiety perhaps that would throw them off or they would make a mistake and show themselves in advance then I would be able to react in time. I tried to act like business as usual, sitting down at my desk, preparing my stuff and getting reading to focus on the day's lesson.

The first bell rang and nothing unusual had happened. I had mixed feelings about this. On one hand, it meant I had been spared for a little longer but on the other, the longer I had to wait for the ball to drop the bigger the fall was going to be. Nothing happened by the time of the second bell. Would I go through this day unscathed? There was one major obstacle still ahead of me. It would be the big test: lunchtime.

The corridor at the start of the day was a good spot to spread information quickly but the school cafeteria was the best one. Everyone would be gathered in the same room to witness it all. They could make a huge spectacle out of it and whatever happens I would never be able to show my face at school ever again. I might even have to leave town if I didn't want to be laughed at every day for the rest of my life.

I reached the double swinging doors of the cafeteria but stopped myself before opening them. Why was I giving them the satisfaction? I could decide right here and now to turn around and leave, skipping lunch all together. Surviving half a day without eating was doable. Supper should be enough to catch me up. I was turning around when my stomach growled louder than ever before. The peckish bastard wasn't agreeing with my skipping lunch idea. I had to go in. I took a deep breath and readied myself for the end of the world.

One step. Two steps. No comments. I made my way to the food tray. No snarky remarks. I picked the burger of the day and a salad. No one shoved me in the back. I found an empty table and sat down. No food was thrown at me. I ate my lunch in relative peace. I dumped my trash in the bin, set my tray with the others and made my way outside the cafeteria. Once out in the open, a wave of relief crashed through me. A heavy weight had left my body. I was lighter than air. If VVROOM had known who really was behind the CaptainBlueBeard screen name, he had kept it to himself. I was safe for another day. Captain Bluebeard would live on.


	11. Blow the Man Down

Even when putting all my strength into it, pushing the front door closed was a real struggle. It had been acting weird since the start of the week, perhaps it was welcoming the cold and wanted us all to enjoy it as well. My legs were aching from all the walking I had just done. I couldn't wait to sit down and let them have some rest. I had arrived home probably later than usual so in case the door hadn't already given it away or that Mum worried there was an intruder in her house, I warned her of my presence.

"Mum, I'm home!"

My school bag dropped on the ground as I rushed to the kitchen. My legs would have to wait a little longer, I had my bread and spread ritual to perform first.

"Chloe?"

Mum's muffled voice was coming from upstairs, she was probably in her chamber or the bathroom. And what was with this question. Who else would it be? An intruder wouldn't have announced themselves so openly. Or had she been hiding another daughter I didn't know about? Right as the peanut butter jar top gave up and finally let me unscrew it, Mum showed up in the kitchen.

"I told you a thousand times, don't leave your bag right in front of the door like that, someone might trip over it."  
"It's not like there's anyone else in the house and you already know where to look to avoid it."  
"That's not a good enough reason, young lady!"  
"I know, Mum. Sorry. But it won't stay there forever. I'm just grabbing something to eat and going to the garage."  
"Please don't eat in front of the computer again. I'm the one that has to go after you and remove the crumbs from the keyboard."  
"I'll be more careful, I promise."  
"And if you drop one of your sandwiches face down on the chair, please don't leave it there. Clean up the leftover chocolate immediately this time."  
"That happened only once! When will you stop reminding me about it?"  
"My poor little flower dress still hasn't recovered…"  
"Just write it down on the Christmas list, I'll get you a new one, a better one. I promise!"  
"Speaking of list, any idea what you're going to put on yours this year?"  
"I'm still thinking about it."  
"You should hurry up. The date is coming fast. You need to inform the elves in advance so they have time to find what you want."  
"Don't worry, Mum. When I know what I want, I'll make sure to leave instructions to ease the elves' work."  
"You better. Or you're going to end up with a pair of socks and some oranges this year."  
"You may as well already add the socks to the list, my last pair is really starting to get too small."  
"And you're not done growing. I wonder when you will overtake your father."  
"That's if I ever do. He's such a giant. Speaking of Dad, didn't he say he would be home tonight?"  
"Something came up. He will be back tomorrow instead. He will finally fix this blasted door."  
"Tell me about it, it feels like I'm about to pull a muscle every time I have to close it! Anyway, that sucks that he isn't here. I was hoping he would drive me to school tomorrow."  
"Why?"  
"The bus broke down on our way home. They warned us they wouldn't be able to replace it for tomorrow's ride and maybe not even for the rest of the week. I had to finish the trip on foot."  
"Sorry, Chloe. It seems you will have to walk. You used to do it every day before they implemented the new bus circuit. And before you ask, I won't accompany you, I've got the morning shift. You're a big girl now, you can do the journey on your own."  
"Could you at least wake me up before you leave?"  
"Didn't we get you an alarm clock just for that?"  
"I'm already too accustomed to it. You know it doesn't wake me up anymore."  
"More like you shut it down and go right back to sleep."  
"I never do that, I swear!"  
"Don't worry, I'll make sure you are up and ready on time. I might just leave a bucket of water outside tonight for this purpose."  
"Mum! Don't you dare!"  
"I might have to use it since you seem to be able to sleep through a fire alarm."  
"Duly noted, Mother."  
"Good. How is your excess-and-tea thingy coming along?”  
“It’s SSAT, Mum, and it’s going well I guess. We've got the results of our last practice test and I did pretty fine, you might even say well, but I’m sure with more practice I can do better than that! I'm glad to have skipped the November date though, I would have totally failed it. I was so unprepared!”  
“You seem to have a good handle on things. Good for you. Now go have fun with your friends. You deserve it."  
"I noticed your tone, Mum. It's not because I’ve never seen their faces that they are not real friends!"  
"What were their names again?"  
"VVROOM and OneEyePete."  
"That doesn't sound like real people to me."  
"Because it's their screen names, Mum. I already explained it to you."

I had given up on making Mum understand that it was the same person under different usernames. She was obviously playing dumb around the whole internet technology since she was still able to use it to get new recipes from time to time. Or perhaps she found pleasure in making me repeat myself over and over.

This little chat with Mum hadn't prevented me from completing my ritual even if the Zen part had gone out the window. I went out of the kitchen with my spreads in one hand, I picked up my school bag that hadn't moved from its spot with the other one, gently kicked open the already unlocked garage door and made my way to the computer to boot it up. Once the welcome message disappeared giving me access to the desktop, I started the OTP software and looked at the clock. The bus breaking down and the chat with Mum had made me very late for my daily meeting.

* * *

*** Welcome to #ArrrcadiaBay, feel free to say hi!  
* CaptainBlueBeard just joined the channel  
OneEyePete: Yo Captain!  
OneEyePete: Finally  
CaptainBlueBeard: Sorry I'm late  
OneEyePete: I thought you'd never come  
CaptainBlueBeard: Something came up  
CaptainBlueBeard: But don't worry, I'm here now!  
OneEyePete: So?  
CaptainBlueBeard: ?  
OneEyePete: Have you seen it?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Seen what?  
OneEyePete: Stop toying with me!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Oh right  
CaptainBlueBeard: My dad doesn't have it in his collection  
CaptainBlueBeard: I'll see if we can rent it this weekend  
OneEyePete: I'll try not to spoil it for you then  
OneEyePete: Gonna be hard tho  
OneEyePete: It was so good! :O  
CaptainBlueBeard: No emoji!  
OneEyePete: Sorry, sorry!  
OneEyePete: Can't wait for you to see it so that we can talk about it!  
CaptainBlueBeard: I can see that  
CaptainBlueBeard: Any news on our little project?  
OneEyePete: Done with my part, you?  
CaptainBlueBeard: First half's done  
OneEyePete: I'll show you mine if you show me yours  
CaptainBlueBeard: Okay  
CaptainBlueBeard: I worked on it on another computer  
CaptainBlueBeard: So it's not on this one yet  
CaptainBlueBeard: Just gimme a minute to set it up  
CaptainBlueBeard: brb

* * *

I had totally forgotten to check if Dad owned a copy of Errol Flynn's "Captain Blood". I needed to find some time to do that before the next evening. For now, I had more pressing matters. I opened a browser and logged on my email account to retrieve the scripts from the last email I had sent to myself earlier in the day.

Discovering the real software beneath OTP had opened a whole new world to me. We could make games and other interesting things using scripts that could be plugged in the application. OneEyePete had shown me a script he had made on his own, some shortcuts to personalized actions he used a lot, like the /slap one. I had a bit of trouble wrapping my head around it at first but once it clicked it was far simpler than I had initially thought it would be. I wanted to know more so he provided me with links to a few tutorials.

That was when the idea came to me: we could do nearly everything we wanted. I could even make my own pirate ship, recruit fellow sea lovers and sail the internet's seas in search of adventures and bounties. All I had to do was start with my ship and for that, I created a new channel. That had been as easy as changing name. OneEyePete told me some servers had restrictions on channel creation or user names but our server had none of that so one command line later I had my own channel. Of course I immediately invited him on board, he had been quite receptive when I offered him a role in my crew. So we made a project of this whole thing. While OneEyePete would be working on the onboard activities I would be looking into the administrative part of it. I didn't want everyone to be able to waltz in our ship as they pleased.

I had been pouring most of my week on the subject. I was still far from being skilled enough to write my own code but I had picked up enough to be able to find a decent script and just change a few things here and there to adapt it for our purpose. Finding a script had ended up being the hardest part. After two days of sifting through badly written code, undocumented mess and useless features, I finally had found the script that filled most of our needs. It was under the Creative Commons License so I had no trouble getting my hand on the source code and I could use it at will. I had spent the rest of the week looking through the script, keeping one eye on the tutorials, deciphering how the code worked and modifying it to serve my purpose. I had made my last modification during lunch break and it was time to reveal what I made to my online friend.

Speaking of friends, as if sensing my thoughts and seemingly afraid of being replaced, Bongo chose this moment to show up and jumped on my lap.

"There you are."

I scratched him under the chin. He purred happily.

"Behind the ears, please."  
"I know you like that."

I scratched my best friend until he withdrew his neck, pawing at my hand.

"That's enough."

Since he was here, warming up my legs, and he had been with me every night while I had been working on the project, it was only fair that I showed him a sneak preview of my work.

"Okay. Check it out, Bongo. We have our own adminBot."  
"What's that?"  
"Well, thank you for asking, it's a robot that I'll put on the channel and that will help us with the administration stuff."  
"Remind me, what does it do exactly?"  
"It will manage the operation of the channel, like sending invites to people that are authorized to join or making people leave the channel if they become undesirable. It will display a personalized welcome message every time someone joins."  
"Do you really need it though? Isn't there like only two people on your channel? What's the point of having something like that?"  
"You have to see the big picture. It's true we only have a small crew so far, just Pete and me and I hope you will join us as well. Right?"  
"Sure, sure."  
"And it won't be just the three of us forever, we will be recruiting more people when the time is right and it will be cool alright?"  
"If you say so…"  
"I just need to give the bot a name now…"  
"AdminBot isn't cool enough for you?"  
"Too generic… I could name it after you."  
"And risk getting found out again?"  
"No, no. Your pirate name!"  
"My pirate name?"  
"Aye!"  
"I have a pirate name?"  
"Of course, you do!"  
"Can I choose it?"  
"Absolutely not!"  
"But why?"  
"Because I know you. With your twisted mind, you will come up with Confucius the Impaler or Herodotus the Executioner."  
"I was gonna suggest Leontios the Child-Eater…"  
"Okay, that one is less bizarre but still, that's not a proper pirate name!"  
"Whatever… what will it be then?"  
"It's…"  
"It's gonna be Eye Patch Bob, isn't it?"  
"Shh! Let me think!"  
"I knew you were gonna name me Bob."  
"I can't name you Eye Patch, we already have a one-eye pirate on the ship and we have to diversify. We need something more fitting…"  
"Come out with it already, stop keeping me on my toes! I'm starting to feel my nine lives slipping by while waiting for you to…"  
"Pogo the pirate!"  
"That's… Okay. It could have been worse. That will do, I guess."  
"Perfect!"

I made a copy of my installation folder of OTP and put my freshly finished script into the proper sub folder. I didn't find out how to run bots on my own version of the software so that was necessary. I started the bot copy of OTP and waited a bit for it to load up. Once prompted with the request for a name, I entered our pick, pressed enter and immediately made it leave all the useless channels. The bot was on the server but wasn't on any channel yet.

"We're all set up then!"

* * *

OneEyePete: What will we do with a drunken sailor?  
OneEyePete: Early in the morning!  
CaptainBlueBeard: You can stop singing, I'm back  
CaptainBlueBeard: Okay, gimme a drum roll!  
OneEyePete: Sure  
OneEyePete: 3  
OneEyePete: 2  
OneEyePete: 1

* * *

As soon as the number one popped up, I switched to the AdminBot software and entered the command to make the bot join our ship. I submitted the command to promote it to Administrator of the channel but my request failed. I would have to ask OneEyePete about that.

* * *

* PogoThePirate just joined the channel  
PogoThePirate: Tada!  
OneEyePete: Love the name so far  
CaptainBlueBeard: It seems I can’t promote it  
OneEyePete: You need to be admin to do that  
CaptainBlueBeard: Oh right

* * *

Silly me. I forgot I had to set myself up as administrator every time I joined the channel. The server should have been able to do that automatically but the incompetent people at the wheel had forgotten to enable the feature… I quickly sent a request with the proper password to the server so it could promote me as administrator of my own channel. Then promoted the adminBot to its new role and immediately demoted myself. There was to be only one sheriff in town. On the ship. Well I was the captain of the ship which would make me the closest thing to a sheriff so that wasn't a good analogy. But I didn't like having an at sign next to my name so I preferred delegating all the boring stuff to the new bot and let it deal with all that.

* * *

OneEyePete: You remember how to do that?  
* CaptainBlueBeard has been promoted to @CaptainBlueBeard  
* PogoThePirate has been promoted to @PogoThePirate  
* @CaptainBlueBeard has been demoted to CaptainBlueBeard  
OneEyePete: Nicely done!  
OneEyePete: But you know you could send the request automatically after your log in right?  
CaptainBlueBeard: What?  
OneEyePete: I'll show you later, please, continue  
CaptainBlueBeard: Okay  
CaptainBlueBeard: Could you bring up your bot from last night?  
OneEyePete: Sure thing

* * *

OneEyePete hadn't been idle during the week, he had made a bot of his own. I would be able to check if the welcoming message and a few other commands worked properly.

* * *

* ParrotBot just joined the channel  
* @PogoThePirate welcomes ParrotBot to the Arrrcadia Bay, make yourself at home but don't drink all the rum!  
OneEyePete: Excellent!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Time to go now, ParrotBot!  
CaptainBlueBeard: !!k ParrotBot  
* @PogoThePirate just kicked ParrotBot (Time to walk the plank, ParrotBot, you scallywag!)  
OneEyePete: Perfect!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Of course we want him back  
CaptainBlueBeard: !!i ParrotBot  
* @PogoThePirate cordially invites ParrotBot on board  
* ParrotBot just joined the channel  
* @PogoThePirate welcomes ParrotBot to the Arrrcadia Bay, make yourself at home but don't drink all the rum!  
CaptainBlueBeard: When you are tired of the current message, you can type a custom one after the name of the target  
OneEyePete: Impressive  
OneEyePete: You've learned so much  
OneEyePete: WOW  
CaptainBlueBeard: Yeah, yeah, stop mocking me  
OneEyePete: Any whitelist or ban list?

* * *

That was typical of him. I had given him a good working bot and already he was asking for me more. I had seen a few scripts that had included ways to accept only certain users or rejecting others automatically but I hadn't been able to spend too much time on it yet.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Not yet  
CaptainBlueBeard: I need to learn how the whole data persistence works first  
CaptainBlueBeard: I might have found a script that does the work but I need to analyze it first  
CaptainBlueBeard: I'll be working on that next week  
CaptainBlueBeard: Your turn. Show me what you've got  
OneEyePete: First things first, you remember ParrotBot?  
CaptainBlueBeard: You mean the one that's in our channel? Right now? No, not at all  
OneEyePete: Stop being sarcastic for a second  
OneEyePete: So I already showed you he could do this  
OneEyePete: !Parrot say Coco  
ParrotBot: Coco  
CaptainBlueBeard: Yay!  
OneEyePete: Oh shut up, it's not over  
CaptainBlueBeard: !Parrot say No you shutup  
ParrotBot: No you shutup  
OneEyePete: I added this little thing  
OneEyePete: !Parrot rl  
CaptainBlueBeard: ...  
CaptainBlueBeard: It doesn't do anything  
ParrotBot: anything!  
CaptainBlueBeard: no way  
ParrotBot: way!  
OneEyePete: It finds the last word in your sentence and repeats it with the extra "!"  
ParrotBot: extra!  
CaptainBlueBeard: That's gonna be fun  
ParrotBot: fun!  
OneEyePete: I need to work on it a little bit more  
ParrotBot: more!  
OneEyePete: So it can add the missing capitalization  
ParrotBot:> capitalization!  
OneEyePete: !!k ParrotBot Bye mister birdie  
* @PogoThePirate just kicked ParrotBot (Bye mister birdie)  
OneEyePete: That's enough from you!  
CaptainBlueBeard: You didn't put a command to stop him?  
OneEyePete: I did  
OneEyePete: "!Parrot stop" should stop it  
OneEyePete: But I wanted to try out yer new bot  
CaptainBlueBeard: I changed my mind  
CaptainBlueBeard: That one gonna get old pretty quickly  
OneEyePete: Yeah, I need to tweak it a bit more  
OneEyePete: Anyway for the second thing, give me a sec  
CaptainBlueBeard: Sure

* * *

"Did you see that, Bongo? His bot is able to respond to any sentences. Not just specific commands. How is it doing that?"  
"You're asking me? You're the computer whiz here. You're the one that knows how this magic works."  
"There is nothing magical about it all… I guess it's parsing every sentence on the channel, like any other bot, but its repertoire of keywords is just a bit bigger? No, that would mean it has every word of the dictionary in it and how would he be able to know where the word it's looking for is in the sentence… based on the word position in the sentence… I'm missing something here."  
"He's back."  
"Huh?"  
"Look at your screen, it moved."  
"Oh? Right."

* * *

OneEyePete: !!i ShantyBot  
* @PogoThePirate cordially invites ShantyBot on board  
* ShantyBot just joined the channel  
* @PogoThePirate welcomes ShantyBot to the Arrrcadia Bay, make yourself at home but don't drink all the rum!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Not really creative with the names  
OneEyePete: Yeah, if you find better ones, don't hesitate to share  
OneEyePete: Okay, so it took some time and I was only able to implement one song so far  
CaptainBlueBeard: How does it work?  
OneEyePete: I'll let the bot explain  
OneEyePete: !Shanty tutorial  
ShantyBot: Are ye ready lads?  
ShantyBot: Type !shanty yes to participate  
OneEyePete: !s yes  
CaptainBlueBeard: !shanty yes  
ShantyBot: I be your shanty man  
ShantyBot: For now, I give the calls and the responses  
ShantyBot: But I be making mistakes during the responses  
ShantyBot: ye be correctin' me, savvy?  
ShantyBot: If ye be first to type the correct response, ye get 3 points  
ShantyBot: If ye be correct but not fast enough, ye get 1 point  
ShantyBot: If ye fumble or be too slow, ye lose 1 point  
ShantyBot: The one with the best score wins a bottle of rum!  
ShantyBot: If I haven't drunk it all before then  
ShantyBot: Let's start with something easy to see how ye all farin'  
ShantyBot: E'ery one knows this one  
ShantyBot: Drunken Sailor  
ShantyBot: What will we do with a drunken sailor?  
ShantyBot: What will we do with a drunken sailor?  
ShantyBot: What will we do with a drunken sailor? Early in the mornin'  
ShantyBot: Way hay and up she rssie  
OneEyePete: rises  
CaptainBlueBeard: Wait what?  
ShantyBot: Way yah and up she rises  
OneEyePete: hay  
ShantyBot: Way hay u adpn she rises. Early in the morning  
OneEyePete: and up  
CaptainBlueBeard: I don't

* * *

I couldn't grasp how the game worked at first and while trying to figure it out it seemed I even skipped a turn. Bongo was moving around on my lap, giggling. He decided to deliver me from my misery.

"Just pay attention to the weirdly written words and fix them."

* * *

ShantyBot: Shave his belly with a rusty razor  
ShantyBot: Shave his belly with a rusty razor  
ShantyBot: Shave his belly with a rusty razor. Early in the mornin'  
ShantyBot: yWa hay and up she rises  
OneEyePete: Way  
CaptainBlueBeard: way  
ShantyBot: Way hay nad up she rises  
CaptainBlueBeard: and  
OneEyePete: and  
ShantyBot: Way hay and up she rises. lyrea in the mornin'  
CaptainBlueBeard: early  
OneEyePete: Early  
ShantyBot: Put him in a long boat 'til he's sober  
ShantyBot: Put him in a long boat 'til he's sober  
ShantyBot: Put him in a long boat 'til he's sober. Early in the mornin'  
ShantyBot: Way hay and pu she rises  
CaptainBlueBeard: up  
OneEyePete: up  
ShantyBot: Way ahyn da up she rises  
CaptainBlueBeard: hay and  
OneEyePete: hay and  
ShantyBot: Way hay and us phe sesri  
CaptainBlueBeard: up she rises  
OneEyePete: up she rises  
ShantyBot: ye get the idea, mates  
ShantyBot: If ye want to try a whole song, type !shanty song  
CaptainBlueBeard: Took me some times to get it but I was winning by the end!  
OneEyePete: Let me check  
OneEyePete: You were kinda far behind  
CaptainBlueBeard: No way  
OneEyePete: 19 points for me, 7 points for you  
CaptainBlueBeard: What?  
OneEyePete: You missed a lot so that's negative points  
OneEyePete: And you miss some caps so these responses counted as loses as well  
CaptainBlueBeard: Damn, these are harsh rules!  
OneEyePete: Pirate's life aint easy, matey!  
CaptainBlueBeard: I be yer captain, the shanty man be givin' me more points or he soon be swimmin' with the fishes!  
OneEyePete: LOL, I could arrange that. Easy.  
CaptainBlueBeard: That's some awesome work tho, grats!  
OneEyePete: Yeah, the leaderboard is working and we've only got one difficulty so far  
OneEyePete: I'm working to add other difficulties  
OneEyePete: Like the shanty man is too drunk so he fumbles on his calls as well and we will have to correct him on his calls as well  
OneEyePete: And even put some lines when he doesn't fumble at all so instead we have to type the whole line  
OneEyePete: Also I'll add another mode  
CaptainBlueBeard: How would that one work?  
OneEyePete: Well the shanty man will be only typing the calls and we will have to type the full corresponding responses  
OneEyePete: No more visual aids  
CaptainBlueBeard: Wouldn't that be easier than the current version?  
OneEyePete: I guess, once we know all the songs by heart  
OneEyePete: Yeah it will be  
CaptainBlueBeard: It will just be a contest on who can type the fastest  
OneEyePete: And another mode where one player takes the role of the caller and the others have to answer his calls.  
OneEyePete: The shanty man chooses the song of course.  
OneEyePete: Harder job for the caller but more points for him.  
OneEyePete: I was also thinking  
OneEyePete: Once we have more songs in the system  
OneEyePete: The shanty man, drunk as donkey in a monastery, will be singing random calls from different songs and we have to guess the response that goes with them  
CaptainBlueBeard: This last one sounds like a real challenge  
OneEyePete: Yeah, should be fun tho  
OneEyePete: That's all I've got so far  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ambitious project  
OneEyePete: Nah!  
OneEyePete: Will only take a few weeks  
OneEyePete: One month max  
CaptainBlueBeard: Finished before the New Year?  
OneEyePete: Two months tops!  
CaptainBlueBeard: I'm keeping a screenshot of that conversation  
CaptainBlueBeard: I'll make you eat your own words on New Year's Eve  
OneEyePete: We will see about that  
OneEyePete: I'm also working on a way for you to add yer own shanties  
OneEyePete: I'll try to finish that one first  
CaptainBlueBeard: Okay, but for now, let's go for a whole song  
CaptainBlueBeard: I wanna beat your ass at this game!  
OneEyePete: Aye! Aye! Captain!  
CaptainBlueBeard: !s song  
ShantyBot: Are ye ready lads?  
CaptainBlueBeard: !s yes  
OneEyePete: !s yes

* * *

After an hour-long competition and despite Bongo's best efforts to help me, I didnt’ manage to beat my online friend's score. I was pumped up and I would have gone at it all night but the time for supper was getting close, so I had to call it a day. Serious practice would have to be in my future if I ever wanted to have a chance at beating him. I bid OneEyePete farewell, powered down the computer, grabbed my cat and got up from the chair. As I stood my legs went from fairly warm to freezing cold. Where had all the heat gone?

"It's so cold in there! Bongo, did you leave a window open again?"  
"Wasn't me. I was all warm and cozy on your legs until you moved me."

All the windows were properly closed and intact, no broken glass. The garage door opening on the front yard was shut closed as well. It hadn't been used since the start of the fall anyway, Mum and Dad parked in front of the house instead, so there was no reason for it to be opened all the sudden. No giant meteor had fallen down on our house and opened a hole in the garage roof either, that was a relief, but the cold had to come from somewhere. The roof, the windows, the walls, all these were only preventing the cold from coming in, the main source of heat in the room was the heater mounted against the wall next to the workshop table. At first glance it seemed to be switched on, the light near the power button was flashing red but its surface was as cold as a freezer. In normal circumstances, I wouldn't have been able to touch it without getting a serious burn. Turning the power button off and on only acted on the little light. Nothing else was working on this machine. It had been dead and cold for quite some time.

"Looks like the heater is busted. Everything is falling apart in this house, Bongo. Dad will have to check that out tomorrow as well."  
"Strange how things work perfectly when we don't have a use for them and start falling apart right when we need them."  
"Let's go warm ourselves up in the kitchen. I'm sure Mum will need our help with something."  
"Oh! Can I please set up the table?"  
"Not if you're going to place the utensils with your mouth instead of your paws."  
"I'm working with what I've got. These things are so slippery!"  
"I was thinking more like, I set the table while you check that everything is in order."  
"So exactly what we do every evening?"  
"Exactly."  
"I'm starting to get a strong Pinky and the Brain vibe, except we're missing the world domination plans."  
"And, in your scenario, which one of us is Pinky?"  
"I'll let you figure that one out!"

* * *

I was on my way home, walking with my head bent down, focusing on my feet and the ground beneath them. I jumped on a nearby manhole cover. They were slipping hazards when cold or wet but so worth it. I added ten points to my score. I had to choose my next move carefully. Either pick the piece of asphalt with the green and red markings, it was easily accessible but only worth two points, or go for a long jump and get to the white bricks lining the sidewalk edge, riskier move but worth five points. I had made my decision and pushed on my legs landing a second later on the edge of the sidewalk and I took a second to stabilize myself so I would neither drop my bag nor fall onto the road. The road itself was a forbidden zone, minus twenty points if I touched it while walking on a crosswalk and just plain game over outside of that. The purpose of the game was to not touch the same type of ground two steps in a row, not to get run over by cars.

I upped my mental score and looked for my next move while running through my check list one more time. Milk and eggs for tomorrow's breakfast: checked. Fresh vegetables for tonight's salad: all were accounted for. Bottle of Meow's shampoo: in the bag as well. Bongo had been licking himself clean for all his life but Mum said it wasn't enough. I could still picture the last time we had tried to give him a bath. Mum had used a normal shampoo and it had taken a few weeks for his poor fur to completely recover. He was so sensitive about it. We roamed a few stores until we found this miracle product that was doing its job properly and leaving my furry friend all fresh and happy. It was a good thing that I checked our bathroom product and found out we were out of his shampoo. With his next monthly bath scheduled for tonight it would have been a disaster. But this time I had his back, there would be no fur apocalypse for him.

Nothing seemed good ahead, this portion of the sidewalk was strangely uniform. Probably due to the fact it had been redone recently. I opted to continue my way on the long portion of regular asphalt and I simply hopped from asphalt to sidewalk edge.

My brain went back to the content of my bag. It was sure I had missed something. Renting "Captain Blood". I had told him already twice in the last hour that I had it handled. Unless it had dug a hole at the bottom to escape. Nope. The DVD was still there, sitting pretty in the bag with the rest. OneEyePete would have killed me for forgetting it again. He had been harassing me constantly to see it for so long but that would end tonight. I was sure Dad wouldn't mind watching it with me this evening.

Asphalt. Brick. Asphalt. Brick. Where was my next opportunity for new points? This path was getting boring.

A shoot came from behind.

"Watch out!"

I turned around, barely having time to notice the shadowy figure barreling down on me before I took one step to the side to avoid it. The shadow figure turned out to be a boy speeding away on a skateboard.

"Incoming. Make way!"

There wasn't any more space this time so I quickly squeezed myself against the wall, letting the second skater boy pass by. I watched them both continue on their way then disappearing into a corner as I dusted my winter vest sleeve that had made contact with the wall.

It was fascinating. The way they stood on the wheeled wooden board, their bodies adjusting to the flow of the road without falling down. And they were going at a decent speed. Having one of these would be a sure way to shorten my trip to and from school. Those broken buses were a pain on my legs and were making me miss some precious online time. Could I ever be able to do what they did? Surfing on one of these seemed like a good way to break a leg. I was young! It was better to try it now while recovering from injuries is easier than waiting when I would be older and less malleable. If I didn't try it at least once I would surely regret it.

It seemed I had finally found something to put on my Christmas list for this year.

* * *

I was standing up, arms crossed over my belly, trying to match Mum's position while we were watching the men hard at work. Dad and a "space heater expert" were bent down under the broken beast, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. I had wanted to help them out but the technician had told me he didn't want to be bothered while he was working and if I wanted to be helpful I could just stand aside and be out of his way. He seemed very rude but he had been highly recommended so I had to suck it up and got out of his hair. Mum didn't seem to like him either. But if having to spend a few hours with this man meant having the heat back in the garage, we could handle it.

"Well, there's your problem. Do you see that?"

The man was probably directing Dad towards something important but as our view was blocked by the enormous machine and all we could see was their wiggling legs there was no way for us to know what he was talking about. He might have been pointing toward a miniature black hole that had formed under the space heater for all we knew. Dad had been allowed to assist the mean man so he had a chance to witness what was going on properly.

"I see it. Is that supposed to be all black like that?"  
"No. Not at all. You will have to remove it and replace it with a new one. You got any spare part on hand?"  
"Unfortunately no."  
"I see. That's gonna cost you. You can't find them in any shops, you have to have them custom made. I know the company that used to make them, they closed their last plant of the state last year. Might still have one operating in Rhode Island. I can give them a call and see if they can make one for you."  
"And how much is it going to cost me?"

I couldn't hear the amount the technician said but it wasn't to Dad's liking. He reacted by bumping his head against the bottom of the heater. Mum went down and patted him on the leg.

"Are you okay, darling?"  
"Ouch! I'll live. Thanks, honey. Any alternative?"  
"You could replace the whole thing. Though the price of a new system and installation might cost you more…"  
"Damnit! And how long would it take for them to make the piece?"  
"That will take a while, especially during this season. You might get it next month if you're lucky."  
"That's just unacceptable!"

I was sure we could find another way without having to wait this long for a new piece or new system. We could resort to having a campfire in the middle of the room if we had to. I had to chime in.

"What about an electrical heater? Won't that be enough?"  
"That's why you don't let the children make the decision. With space this big and full of holes, your electrical heater wouldn't heat anything past one foot away from it. Nah, that wouldn't work at all!"

I might have been wrong but he didn't have to be an ass about it, I only wanted to help after all.

The legs extended outwards pulling the bodies of the men from under the space heater. They stood and Dad fetched his wallet from his back pocket.

"Thanks for the intervention. I'll need to discuss this with my wife."

He put some bills in the technician's hand. The mean man counted the bills one by one then crumbled them up, stuck them into his front pocket and retrieved instead a thin metallic box with a picture of a barely covered woman with a long cigarette in her hand. He opened it, letting a strong smell of tobacco into the room. Mum eyed him fiercely and immediately he closed it back. He focused back on Dad.

"Of course. Of course. You have my number. Give me a call when you’ve made a decision and we will see from there."

The technician scratched his behind, took his toolbox and left the garage. As soon as he was out of the door, he had his hand in his pocket, fetching his metallic box once again. Mum closed the door behind him before he could light anything up and went to stand at Dad's side. He looked at us with a not so happy face.

"Well, we have a few options. First one: we spend the whole winter without heat in the garage."

It was easy for him to say, he would only be around during the weekends but I didn't have to argue the option down. The look Mum gave him was all it took to throw away this option.

"Second one: we buy the new piece from far away and wait a month without heat."

One month seemed like far too long, especially in this weather, but it was an option we couldn't easily throw away this time.

"Or the third one: we replace the whole system. I looked it up before the technician arrived and it could be done in a week or two but it would cost us a fortune. I was thinking we could withdraw some money from the Paris trip fund to pay for it. That would mean one more year to wait before the vacation but…"  
"No! We are not touching the Paris fund. We both have worked too hard for it. We all deserve this vacation. There has to be another way."

Mum had put her foot down. I wasn't sure if it was only the Paris vacation that had made her react this way. The behavior of our mean guest might have had something to do with her mood as well. Dad went to Mum and hugged her. Once she seemed to have calmed down a bit he released her from his embrace.

"It's okay, honey. I'll check with Aaron, he might be able to do something about our problem. I'll call him right away."

He brushed his hands against a nearby towel and went to the hallway. I turned towards Mum.

"Uncle Aaron?"  
"Yes, he's always storing all kinds of weird stuff in his farm."

If this Hail Mary didn't pan out, we might have to consider a winter without being able to use the garage. A winter without a computer? That would be the end of the world. I couldn't fathom spending a few days without it so a whole season? I had really become accustomed to the electronic machine. I had to watch out for that, it might become a problem in the future. I hadn't paid attention to Dad's phone call and only noticed its end when the phone ding as Dad hung up.

"So Aaron might save the day. He has a spare heater he could bring us. And he will even be able to install it himself. We won't have to deal with Foul Mouth Charles this way. But there is a catch. He can't come before the end of next week and I won't be able to go to him either… So that means a week without heat. I know. I know. It's not perfect but that's better than a month without, right?"  
"We can make it work."

Mum seemed satisfied with this solution. I wasn't. I might have been unreasonable but a week without a computer, a week without having access in the evening to my communication with Dad and my online friend seemed totally out of the question for me. We had to figure a way to deal with the computer problem at least.

"A whole week? Dad! I can't live this long without my computer. I know a week doesn't seem like a long time for you old people, but for little young me, it's an eternity!"  
"You're right, kiddo. We could move it temporarily in the living room…"  
"And where would it go exactly? On the table? That would take up the whole space."

Mum was vetoing the living room option.

"We had this conversation before, that's why the computer ended up in the garage in the first place. There is no other space to put it."

That was my opportunity and I had to take it before Mum responded and it would split away.

"There is still one place where we could place it."  
"And where is that, kiddo?"  
"My room."  
"No, sweetie. We already said no computer in your room."  
"But Mum! I promise I won't abuse it. And you installed something to control the time I spent on it already, so it's not like putting it in my room would change any of that."  
"Kiddo has a point, honey."

Yes! Dad was on my side. It was as good as won. I looked at Mum with the saddest puppy eyes I could muster. Dad had a smile on his face as well. Mum switched between the both of us and sighed.

"Alright, but if I see the computer's lights on in the middle of the night, I swear you're so going to regret it!"  
"Yeah!"

* * *

Moving the computer to my room had been easier than I thought. I already had an electrical power strip with enough empty slots for this purpose placed at the right spot. My desk was big enough to welcome the screen and still have space for my paper work. Having the computer there felt just right. It was as if the room had been missing something for a long time and it was finally complete with the presence of the electronic machine. I had been a good girl so Mum had let me keep it here even after the garage space heater had been fixed. The cook expert had gotten all the recipes she needed out of the internet it seemed so she hadn't used the computer ever since. I hadn't figured out how to properly disable the parental control software Dad had installed on the computer yet but just changing the computer clock had been a good enough workaround. When eight PM was coming around, all I had to do was change the clock to eight AM and the computer was good for running around twelve hours. I just had to do that twice a day to keep it running twenty four seven. As for the light problem a simple rolled up quilt strategically placed at the foot of the door was preventing anything from coming out. I hadn't been abusing it all that much though, I was still fond of my beauty sleep, but this way I was able to keep @PogoThePirate running none-stop on the channel.

Bongo was probably still playing in the garden but it was time to wake up the monitor and try the new OTP client OneEyePete had sent me. He had integrated a pirate theme to it, with a cool new background.

I sat down, turned the screen on and brought the chair closer to the desk to the point where it was standing on two feet and I had my belly pressed against the wooden edge of the desk. I pushed the keyboard and mouse a bit farther and acted like I was lounging on the computer. That was awesome.

* * *

*** Arrr! Welcome to #ArrrcadiaBay, you scallywags!  
* CaptainBlueBeard just arrived on board  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ahoy!  
OneEyePete: Yo Captain!  
OneEyePete: How be ye today?  
CaptainBlueBeard: I be fine, and ye?  
OneEyePete: Can't complain  
OneEyePete: Have you received the new client yet?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Aye. I be using it right now!  
OneEyePete: Excellent!  
CaptainBlueBeard: I love the picture you found for the background  
OneEyePete: Really?  
CaptainBlueBeard: The flaming beard is so stylized!  
OneEyePete: I thought about modifying it a little  
CaptainBlueBeard: Like how?  
OneEyePete: Changing the beard color for example...  
OneEyePete: But I'm no Photoshop expert  
CaptainBlueBeard: Photo-what?  
OneEyePete: It’s an image manipulation software, like Paint but with more options  
CaptainBlueBeard: I see  
CaptainBlueBeard: Don't worry about it, this is great  
CaptainBlueBeard: Thanks  
OneEyePete: You're welcome  
CaptainBlueBeard: So what's new today?  
OneEyePete: Hm... Don't be mad.  
CaptainBlueBeard: That's not a good start  
OneEyePete: You remember when I said I might need one more month to finish the new version of ShantyBot?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Go on  
OneEyePete: Well, I finished it already  
CaptainBlueBeard: Really? That's good news  
OneEyePete: Yes, it is  
CaptainBlueBeard: So what is it I should be mad about  
OneEyePete: I had help  
CaptainBlueBeard: What kind of help?  
OneEyePete: Just hear me out  
OneEyePete: I was working at the library  
OneEyePete: I was in a stomp, couldn't seem to find a way out of my problem  
OneEyePete: There come this girl out of nowhere  
OneEyePete: She got one look at my screen and pointed out what was wrong  
OneEyePete: She directed me towards some website that had exactly what I needed  
OneEyePete: She asked me what it was for and I let it slip it was pirate related and she was excited by that  
OneEyePete: So I kinda invited her to join us  
CaptainBlueBeard: WHAT?!

* * *

I lost balance and found myself on my butt. The chair had slipped completely under the desk, bumping against the electrical power strip. I got up and checked on the computer. I might have cut its power in the process but no, it was fine, still purring on the side of the desk. I brought back the chair to its normal position and sat back down. At least OneEyePete hadn't noticed my little accident.

* * *

OneEyePete: I know you wanted us to finish the project before thinking about inviting more people in  
OneEyePete: I talked to her a fair bit, she seems totally cool  
OneEyePete: You might like her if you get to know her  
OneEyePete: And since my part was finally done, thanks to her help, that meant we were ready for the next step right?  
OneEyePete: And it's not like you were planning to keep this channel only for the two of us right?  
OneEyePete: I mean, I have nothing against this idea  
OneEyePete: But it would be cool to have a few more people around, don't you think?  
OneEyePete: You meant it when you said we would be getting more crew members afterward, right?  
OneEyePete: Captain? Are ye still here?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Yeah, yeah  
CaptainBlueBeard: Of course I meant it  
CaptainBlueBeard: I would have preferred an advanced warning, that’s all  
CaptainBlueBeard: Alright  
CaptainBlueBeard: If you invited her, why isn't she here already?  
OneEyePete: She's online but  
CaptainBlueBeard: But what?  
OneEyePete: When she tried to join the channel she got denied immediately  
OneEyePete: Looks like @PogoThePirate's whitelist is working  
CaptainBlueBeard: Good job @PogoThePirate  
OneEyePete: And you forgot to give me the right to add and remove people from the whitelist  
OneEyePete: So could you add her please?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Just gimme a minute to think about it

* * *

I had to step away from the screen for a second to gather my thoughts and think things through. I got up, moved the chair on the side and walked back and forth between the desk and the chamber door.

I had one main mission: to make more than one friend. And to accomplish it, I had a plan. The plan was simple but requiring a lot of effort on my part. I had a few failures but I had perfected my process and the testing done on OneEyePete seemed conclusive so far. I had been able to handle him with success. At least I hoped I did. He was still friendly with me and we have been able to talk about multiple subjects. All I had to do was select another target and apply the same process. I had hoped to have at least a month to look for the perfect next candidate but looked like OneEyePete had made the decision for me. Was I really ready to handle a second human? I would have to find that out soon. But what if introducing a new person changed the whole dynamic of our group? And who was this new person? Would she try to take over the channel? What if it didn't work and she tried to take over my friendship with OneEyePete? Could she drive him away from me? Was she to be my new nemesis?

I stopped an inch from the door and banged my head once against its wooden frame.

I had to stop being so paranoid. I was all in my head. Where was Bongo? He was usually good at stopping me from working myself up like that. OneEyePete had said she seemed friendly. He never truly lied to me so far, why would he start now? I should trust his judgment and give her a chance.

And OneEyePete and the new one had probably been patiently waiting for me on the other side of the screen. I had kept them waiting for long enough. I sat back down and readied myself to meet a potential new friend.


	12. Acquiring a proper sailing vessel

OneEyePete had been passing the time with one of the ShantyBot songs and I arrived right at the end of it. I scrolled up the chat, skipping the song, to check that I had missed nothing important then I mentioned my return.

* * *

OneEyePete: blow the man  
ShantyBot: The end, let us see who won this round  
ShantyBot: 1) OneEyePete (48 points)  
OneEyePete: Yes! Perfect score!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Back  
CaptainBlueBeard: Alright, I think I'm ready  
OneEyePete: Great! How do you want to proceed, Captain?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Can I have a quick chat with her first?  
CaptainBlueBeard: To make sure she's a worthy mate for our ship  
OneEyePete: I was expecting you would want to  
CaptainBlueBeard: What's her screen name?  
OneEyePete: SaltyGhost  
CaptainBlueBeard: That won't do, we will have to work on that  
OneEyePete: I just told her to send you a pm  
CaptainBlueBeard: Thanks

* * *

I brought my hand to my chest, hoping I could pet Bongo while waiting for SaltyGhost message but I only petted the air. My personal lap radiator was still not around. It was an important moment and he was going to miss it. A new tab popped up, indicating the message I was waiting for had arrived. I readjusted my keyboard and clicked on the new conversation tab.

* * *

SaltyGhost: Hi Captain, I'm friends with OneEyePete, he asked me to send you a message  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ahoy!  
SaltyGhost: Hey!  
SaltyGhost: So he told me you had a ship and might be interested in new crewmembers?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Aye, I have a ship and we be lookin' for only the best crew  
SaltyGhost: Lucky coincidence, I am the best of the best!  
CaptainBlueBeard: That be a brave statement, me matey  
SaltyGhost: One has to brave to survive in our line of work  
CaptainBlueBeard: What be your credentials?  
SaltyGhost: I'm used to fixing things, so if we encounter any problems with the ship I can come in handy  
SaltyGhost: I'm also good at organizing things  
SaltyGhost: I set up the birthday and Christmas party for my small but loving family  
SaltyGhost: I'm sure that could be useful too

* * *

She seemed to be into it. That was a good start but I had to be sure she would be a good fit for our crew. A test of her sea knowledge was in order.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Can ye tie a knot?  
SaltyGhost: Do you want a reef knot or a bowline?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Can ye name the different parts of the mats?  
SaltyGhost: Depends, mats from what kind of ship?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Let's say a full-rigged one  
SaltyGhost: Steel or wooden mats? Foremast, mainmast, mizzenmast or jiggermast?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Does it matter?  
SaltyGhost: In fact, both types use the same naming convention but depending on which mats some don't have all the parts  
CaptainBlueBeard: Go for the taller one then  
SaltyGhost: Foremast it is then  
SaltyGhost: From bottom to top:  
SaltyGhost: mast, topmast, topgallant mast and royal mast

* * *

This SaltyGhost knew what she was talking about. But there was still a major obstacle to overcome before I could accept her in the crew. I wasn't fond of having dead things on board. Spirits, ghosts, zombies. They tended to roam around, playing tricks on the living and generally being annoying instead of doing their chores. We would only be accepting people who could physically help around the ship.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: Ye seem to know yer way around a ship, matey  
CaptainBlueBeard: But we still be havin' a problem  
SaltyGhost: What's that?  
CaptainBlueBeard: We follow only a few rules  
CaptainBlueBeard: First of all: no names from the other world  
SaltyGhost: No IRL names, got it  
CaptainBlueBeard: Second: We be acceptin' only the livin' on board!  
CaptainBlueBeard: And ye bein' a ghost and all  
SaltyGhost: Oh I see, I can rectify that  
* SaltyGhost is now known as CutthroatJim  
CutthroatJim: There, better?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ye be no real ghost?  
CutthroatJim: Oh no, I was only pretending!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Pretendin'?  
CutthroatJim: Yes. There's a good reason behind it  
CaptainBlueBeard: I'm listening  
CutthroatJim: See, I had my eyes on a treasure for some time  
CutthroatJim: But it was guarded by a troop of ghost soldiers  
CutthroatJim: They had been bound to protect the treasure chest until their commander came back  
CutthroatJim: And since the commander had died shortly after leaving them, they never could leave their posts  
CutthroatJim: So the only way to get to the chest was to infiltrate them  
CutthroatJim: That's why I had to disguise myself as a ghost  
CaptainBlueBeard: And be ye able to get the treasure?  
CutthroatJim: Definitely! Or I wouldn't be able to talk to you now, would I?  
CutthroatJim: And I'll bring it on board if I'm part of the crew  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ye show me quick thinkin' and skill  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ye be a perfect fit for us  
CaptainBlueBeard: Welcome aboard!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Our quartermaster be sendin' ye an invite shortly

* * *

Bongo was still nowhere to be seen, so I would have to do it for him. I switched to the AdminBot client, typed the command to add CutthroatJim to the channel whitelist, allowing access to our ship to our new addition, sent the invitation and checked on our channel that everything went properly.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: !!wl CutthroatJim  
@PogoThePirate: CutthroatJim has been added to the crew  
CaptainBlueBeard: !!i CutthroatJim  
* @PogoThePirate cordially invites CutthroatJim on board

* * *

A soft thump came from the door, followed by some heavy scratchings. Sounded like Bongo was in dire need of a nail trimming.

"It's open, you can come in."

My statement had fallen on deaf ears. The door didn't open and the scratching intensified. Someone couldn't be bothered to push a simple door. I sighed, got up and walked to the source of the noise. I was wrong, the door was in fact closed. Bongo must have bumped his head against it when trying to come in the first time. I turned the knob and let my furry friend in.

"Sorry about that, Bongo. I thought I'd let it open."  
"Just admit it, you were keeping me out on purpose."  
"I swear, it was an accident."

There was no point leaving the door open now that Bongo was inside. I closed the door, went back to the desk, sat down and waited for Bongo to jump on my lap. He pawed at my legs for a few seconds then settled in. I was about to focus back on the screen when a set of claws gripped my lap and hissing came from below.

"You touched my bot while I was gone?!"

It was funny how he took ownership of the bot after I named it after his pirate alter ego, while I was the one who did all the coding for it.

"Hey, I had to invite a new person to the channel and you weren't here…"  
"You wanted to keep your new friend away from me, didn't you?"

I showed him the channel tab with the current list of users displaying all four of us.

"Not at all. See? She's here, you're here. Come and say hello."

Bongo moved closer to the keyboard. The channel had been active during my short absence.

"Well, look at that. They've started to chat without us."

* * *

* CutthroatJim just joined the channel  
* @PogoThePirate welcomes CutthroatJim to the Arrrcadia Bay, make yourself at home but don't drink all the rum!  
CutthroatJim: Ahoy everyone!  
CutthroatJim: Glad you invited me in @PogoThePirate  
CutthroatJim: Don't worry, I won't touch your rum  
CutthroatJim: Sweet ship you got there  
CutthroatJim: Could use a nicer coat of paint though  
CutthroatJim: So many bots around!  
OneEyePete: SaltyGhost?  
CutthroatJim: Hey you  
CutthroatJim: Yes, that's me  
OneEyePete: You finally made it!  
CutthroatJim: I thought I was gonna get another invite from you  
OneEyePete: No, no. @PogoThePirate is our quartermaster, he's the one that should have sent you your initial invite in the first place  
CutthroatJim: What role do you have then?  
OneEyePete: I'm first mate!  
CutthroatJim: Aren't first mate and quartermaster supposed to be the same thing on pirate ships?  
OneEyePete: I tried to tell this to the Captain  
OneEyePete: But Pogo came first and he wouldn't bulge  
OneEyePete: So we had to compromise and share the position  
CutthroatJim: I see  
OneEyePete: You like our bot collection so far?  
CutthroatJim: Yes!  
CutthroatJim: Can't wait to try them all  
CutthroatJim: But you could have put all the scripts in the same one  
OneEyePete: We could have  
OneEyePete: But this way, it makes the ship more populated  
CutthroatJim: And where are you hosting them?  
OneEyePete: Some on my computer, some on Captain's  
CutthroatJim: No dedicated server?  
OneEyePete: We haven't looked into it yet  
CutthroatJim: I can help with that  
CutthroatJim: My dad is a system engineer at Sospes Tech  
CutthroatJim: I'm sure he could free up some space to park our bots in  
OneEyePete: That would be great!  
OneEyePete: I wouldn't have to keep the computer running non-stop  
OneEyePete: My parents are starting to get pissed at our electricity bill  
CutthroatJim: I bet they are

* * *

After having caught up to the most recent part of the conversation they had been having, it was time to announce the return of Bongo.

"What do you want to say first?"  
"Be polite, we start with a greeting."  
"Roger that."

* * *

@PogoThePirate: Ahoy me hearties!  
OneEyePete: Hey Pogo  
CutthroatJim: Hey! Thanks again for the invite

* * *

"Good. Now, they are clearly trying to remove me from my post. So we have to ask them about that."  
"Are you sure about that?"  
"Very sure."  
"I don't really want to write that though."  
"Let me type then. You're the one hogging the keyboard."  
"I know how you think. If I let you type on your own, you gonna start writing inappropriate things."

Bongo just sighed.

"I'll let you go on with your idea for now."

* * *

@PogoThePirate: What's that I hear? Someone's suggestin' a mutiny to throw me out?  
CutthroatJim: No, no, mate, nothing like that  
CutthroatJim: We're all fine with how things are  
CutthroatJim: No mutiny  
CutthroatJim: I didn't mean any offense  
@PogoThePirate: Uh-huh, I've my eyes on you, scallywags!  
OneEyePete: Don't mind Pogo  
OneEyePete: Must be one of his woken-up-on-the-wrong-foot days  
CutthroatJim: Is he always like that?  
OneEyePete: Just ignore him, he will cool down on his own

* * *

"Enough of that, my turn now."

I switched back to CaptainBlueBeard client.

* * *

OneEyePete: BTW CutthroatJim, I love the new pirate name  
CutthroatJim: Thanks  
OneEyePete: But why Jim?  
CutthroatJim: Well, having a female on board of a ship is frowned upon, so now I'm Jim!  
CaptainBlueBeard: We be modern pirates, We be okay with females on board  
CutthroatJim: Ah  
CutthroatJim: Good to know  
CutthroatJim: But I had a male pirate in mind for my character  
CutthroatJim: So if you don't mind, I'll stay like that for now  
OneEyePete: No problem  
CaptainBlueBeard: Fine by me!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Who's up for some shanties?  
OneEyePete: Aye!  
CutthroatJim: Yes! I wanted to see your singing bot in action  
CaptainBlueBeard: Do ye know how it works?  
CutthroatJim: Yes, OneEyePete explained it to me earlier  
CaptainBlueBeard: Let's go then  
CaptainBlueBeard: !Shanty song  
ShantyBot: Are ye ready lads?  
CaptainBlueBeard: !s yes  
OneEyePete: !s yes  
CutthroatJim: !s yes  
ShantyBot: "South Australia" starts in 5 seconds  
CaptainBlueBeard: Oh, that's a new one!  
CutthroatJim: Will @PogoThePirate join us?  
OneEyePete: Nah, he isn't much for singing  
ShantyBot: In South Australia I was born

* * *

As I was slamming the front door shut, my stomach decided to manifest itself with a monstrous roar but I didn't stop by the kitchen and went straight to the staircase instead. I had no time to attend to my physical needs right now, I had to boot up my computer.

We got lucky when CutthroatJim was able to provide us with access to a small server from her father's computer. We had transferred the adminBot on it as well as a few other ones, and just in time because the next day, Mum went in my room while I was at school for a surprise cleaning session and saw my computer was still on. After a lesson on saving energy, she had made sure that the computer stayed off when I wasn't around. So I was back to having to wait for it to start.

But that was just a minor annoyance. The big news I had been waiting for all week was supposed to be available this afternoon. My SSAT tests were supposed to have been posted on the official website and I hadn't been able to get to a computer at school to check it out so I had to do that now.

I was concentrating on the loading bar that was going super slow, trying to activate my psychic powers and make it go faster but in vain. I was sure that if we had a race between this loading bar and a snail, the snail would have won twice over!

"Come on, you piece of shit, hurry up!"  
"Language, young lady!"

The ball of fur that I hadn't noticed lying on my bed before, was uncurling itself.

"Oh shhh, Bongo. Stop trying to imitate Dad."  
"This kind of language is unacceptable in this household! Where did you pick it up?"  
"I heard the new repairman saying it repeatedly while he was working on the soda machine at school."  
"It's not because a grownup is using these foul expressions that it gives you the right to do the same."  
"Oh, shut it. It's not like you’ve never said anything worse."  
"As long as you live under their roof, you have to abide by your parents' rules."  
"That's unfair, you live under their roof too. You should follow their rules as well!"  
"That's true but I'm a cat, so I'm exempt from all these silly human rules. I'm allowed to say anything I want!"  
"More like you can get away with anything when all you have to do is flash your sad puppy eyes. That ruse of yours makes them melt every time. Hmm. I'm not sure if sad puppy eyes are proper in this context. Perhaps sad kitten eyes instead?"  
"The power of the innocent helpless stare."  
"Anyway, they're not here to hear me swear so it's the same as if I never said it. You won't be telling on me now, will you?"  
"I'm offended you would suggest I do such a thing!"

I chuckled then noticed a change of color in my eyes' peripheral. The computer had finally booted up. I went to my desk and, by instinct, I started the OTP client. With the adminBot on another server, I didn't have to start its client as well. At first, the downside was that I couldn't use it to speak for Bongo anymore either. CutthroatJim had suggested using a remote control software to control the adminBot client from the server but the program had slowed down my whole computer, ending up unusable. With the help of OneEyePete, we had made a few tweaks to the script of the ParrotBot and ported it to my client. I had been able to send sentences via a command to the adminBot that would make him repeat them on the channel. So I could speak through the bot directly from my own client. It was all neat and well but that wasn't what I wanted to check out first. I opened a browser at the same time, inputted the URL and let it load the website. It was trying to compete with the computer loading bar, to see which one would be the slowest.

"This crappy connection will be the death of me, I swear."  
"Could be worse, you could have no internet at all."  
"I wonder how we could live without it back then!"  
"Such simpler times…"  
"It's up! Entering the login and password. I'm in. And the results are… YES!"

I was so filled with joy, I started jumping up and down.

"I did it! Bongo! Look at that score! They will take me in for sure with that!"

Bongo slid out of the bed, jumped on the desk and admired the screen.

"Meh. I could have done better."  
"Yeah, right."  
"If only they accepted cats, bunch of specists!"  
"They only said they wouldn't allow you in for the test with me. I guess it would have been unfair to the other attendees to have you helping me."  
"That's right, they never mentioned forbidding cats attending the test on their own. I might try it next time. We will see who gets the better score!"  
"I can't wait for Mum and Dad to come home and see this! It's going to be like a pre-Christmas gift for them!"  
"Like they need a reminder that their kid is a genius."  
"I don't care for your tone, Mister. Anyway, since I finished writing my essay yesterday, I think I'm good to go."  
"It's not an essay."  
"Huh?"  
"They called it a writing sample."  
"Right, essay, writing sample. Same thing, it's done! The only thing left is submitting my school application in January."  
"And then the waiting begins."  
"Indeed. Let's hope our financial aid requests will turn up positive. That would suck if, after all that, I couldn't go to Blackwell Academy just because we're short on money."  
"If your parents' plan fails, you still have the option of robbing a bank."  
"Ha-ha. That would be something. We could go at it together. We would be Bonnie and Claw!"  
"I like the sound of that."

* * *

With the stress of the SSAT finally gone, I poured all my free time on my online project. We all had been working day and night on our parts and today was supposed to be the day of the big reveal. I couldn't wait to join my friends online. My computer had just finished booting up and I was starting the OTP client. But something was missing, my lap felt empty.

"Bongo? Where are you? If you don't show up in the next two minutes, we will start without you!"

He was neither in the room nor in the corridor. He wasn't walking up the stairs either. He was probably out of ear range.

"Oh well, I guess he is still playing outside. Too bad for him, he'll miss all the fun."

I sat back down at my computer and focused on my favorite application. The software was fully loaded but wasn't able to access my usual channel.

"What's going on?"

I zoomed in on the bottom right of the screen to the connection icon. It was displaying a picture of an unplugged socket. The network connection was out. I had two options: either I got up - once again - went downstairs, bang a few times on the modem to make it work again and got back up… Or I could just ask Dad to do that for me. Since he was the closest to it.

"Dad! The internet is broken again!"  
"Really? Are you sure you didn't unplug your Ethernet cable by mistake?"  
"Of course I'm sure!"

I was so sure of it that I went and double checked. It wasn't the time to make a fool of myself. I bent down and went under the desk to check on the cable status. It looked plugged in. I gave it a little shake to verify it wasn't loose. It was firmly in place. I backed up and stood.

"The cable is plugged in but there is no signal."  
"Okay, kiddo. Let me check the box."

I waited for a good long minute, my eyes fixed on the connection icon but there was no change.

"Dad! It's still down!"  
"I know, kiddo. I'm working on it."

What was he doing down there? It was such an easy job that even Bongo could do it. What was taking so long?

"Have you tried to turn it off and on again?"  
"Three times and still not working."

Looked like I would be taking the trip downstairs after all. He must have been doing something wrong. I had to see it for myself. I rushed down the stairs to find Dad already in the garage with his hands on the internet router. I went near him and we looked at the machine together.

"See, kiddo? This light should be blinking and this one should definitely not be red."  
"Let me try."

I took the router from my father's hands and spun it around. The machine was vibrating indicating things inside were working and there were no burn marks or any other physical indication that something was wrong with it. I proceeded to turn it off and on again. All the lights stopped at once and only one came back on. It was blinking red.

"Dammit! That didn't work!"  
"I told you I'd already tried that."  
"I thought you might have done it wrong."  
"How could I do that wrong, kiddo? It's just pressing a button twice. It'd be hard to mess this up."

The damned router was ruining my plans. I had people waiting for me.

"What am I gonna do?"

Two knocks on the door made us both turn around.

"Could you two please be quiet? I'm trying to read over here."

Mum's head had popped out of the doorway.

"Sorry, Mum."  
"Sorry, honey."

The Queen of the household's head disappeared once again. She was lucky, she only needed a book and some light to be able to operate while I was stuck down there with a broken router. I was starting to get frustrated by the whole situation. I shook the machine a few times around.

"Come on! Work you useless piece of…."  
"Chloe! Language! That's one dollar for the swear jar."  
"I didn't even say…"  
"But you were going to, the sentiment was there so it counts."  
"Fine."

I retrieved a bill from my wallet and went to the kitchen to put it in the dedicated jar that was now about half empty. Or half full as Dad preferred to say. Said Dad had followed me outside the garage but he stopped near the phone.

"I will call the internet provider, they might know what's going on. Why don't you take this unexpected free time to go fix your new means of transportation?"

My new skateboard was already a bit banged up. But it was solid, it would survive. these things were meant to be used, not to stay pretty in a closet.

"I was planning on doing that later but I guess I could rearrange my plans."  
"I wonder what gave you the idea of using your board in the snow."  
"The snow wasn't the problem, it was working fine in it… at first. It's not my fault, the snow was hiding some holes on the road."  
"I hope it will survive the winter otherwise that would be such a waste of a Christmas gift."  
"I'll look into that right now but warn me as soon as the internet is back on, okay? My friends are expecting me!"  
"Sure thing, kiddo."

Playing the friends card would ensure Dad would tell me right away when the internet would work again. I grabbed a couple of different-sized spanners from the toolbox and a bottle of skateboard bearings oil, then went back to my room. Mum would have preferred I maintained my board in the garage but I had been careful to only work over a plastic sheet. I hadn't made a mess in my room for now so Mum hadn't commented on it further.

Upon entering my room I was immediately welcomed with Bongo hissing at the wall on my right. I sighed, put the tools down and went to pick up the angry cat.

"Come on, Bongo. Calm down. I've already told you, Alfred means you no harm." "But he's looking at me funny!"

My furry friend hadn't adapted well to my other Christmas gift. I had been spoiled this year, I had ended up making two requests for Christmas and had received two out of two of them. Well, not exactly. More like one and a half. This year, I had asked for a skateboard. Surely it was a reasonable request. I used to add a silly request with my normal ones, just to make my parents smile when they read the list and to see what they would do about it. The previous year I had requested a pony and they had given me a coupon for one free pony, redeemable once I was eighteen but the coupon would expire about one week before my eighteenth birthday. We had a good laugh but my request hadn't been properly fulfilled so I asked for a pony a second time. This year's Christmas came and went, and I had two special items to unwrap, outside of the usual oranges, pairs of socks and other new clothes.

The first one had been in a decent-sized box, opening it had revealed a flat package and a few smaller ones. That had been the requested "death on wheels" as Mum called it, with an assortment of head, knee and arm protective gears.

The second one had been in a gigantic box that was shaped like a miniature horse. There was no way this would be a real pony. The box would have been moving around then with the equine trying to escape for sure. And my parents were funny people but never cruel. They wouldn't pack up a dead one either. The smell alone would have given it away anyway. It turned out to be a papier-mâché pony with a blanket rolled in the shape of a baseball bat stuck to its leg.

The papier used for the sculpture had been newspaper articles about different equines. It was a nice touch. A note attached to the made-up baseball had said, in a true Alice in Wonderland fashion, "Use me!". So, with my parents' approval, I had smashed the pony to pieces. The sculpture had been mostly hollow except for another note saying "Gotcha! I'm inside the bat!". So I unfolded the blanket and found inside a rolled up poster of a scantily dressed blonde woman riding a superb white alicorn. I had to agree with Dad, it was better than a pony. Mum was the one that had made the whole sculpture and it must have taken her quite some time, but I still couldn't figure out how she had been able to hide it from me for so long.

I rearranged the wall to free some space on the one facing the bed and my new winged unicorn poster had been hanging there for more than a month now but for some unknown reason, it was still creeping Bongo out something fierce.

The cat decided he wasn't ready to face the mythical creature just yet, jumped from my arms and bolted out of the room. He would get used to it, eventually. I picked up my tools and went to the skateboard that was resting against the wardrobe. I would need to find a proper place for it. I grabbed the plastic sheet that I had stuck under the bed, rolled it on the floor, set my equipment on it and started the overhaul maintenance.

Wielding a used wrenched, I adjusted the trucks and the axle nuts. A quick look at the bolts mounting the trucks confirmed they were still firmly in place. That was when Dad shouted from downstairs.

"Internet's back!"  
"Hurray!"

I dropped everything I was doing, went to the bathroom to wash my hands and then sped up to the computer. I would clean up my mess later.

* * *

*** Arrr! Welcome to #ArrrcadiaBay, you scallywags!  
* CaptainBlueBeard just arrived on board  
CaptainBlueBeard: I'm here!  
OneEyePete: Yo Captain!  
CutthroatJim: Hey Captain  
CaptainBlueBeard: Sorry, I'm late  
CutthroatJim: Internet problems?  
CaptainBlueBeard: How did you know?  
OneEyePete: I had the same problem here  
CutthroatJim: Looks like we're all using the same provider  
CutthroatJim: They said it was a city wide event  
OneEyePete: So you're not the only one that was late  
CutthroatJim: Let's just say we are all on time then  
CutthroatJim: I was able to set everything up before the blackout  
CutthroatJim: And the connections are up and running as well  
CutthroatJim: So I'm ready when you are  
OneEyePete: I'm ready too  
CaptainBlueBeard: I'm ready three  
* OneEyePete groans  
CutthroatJim: So after spending a few hours with OneEyePete tweaking everything  
OneEyePete: More like a week of sleepless nights  
CutthroatJim: We are proud to present our new and improved ship: Spirit of the Sea  
CutthroatJim: !!i SpiritOftheSea  
* @PogoThePirate rejected CutthroatJim's request (We don't fraternize with the enemy!)  
CutthroatJim: …  
CutthroatJim: I forgot about the whitelist again  
OneEyePete: Rookie mistake!  
CutthroatJim: Hey, you smart-ass didn't think about it either  
CaptainBlueBeard: Let me do the honor then  
CaptainBlueBeard: !!wl SpiritOfTheSea  
@PogoThePirate: SpiritOfTheSea has been added to the crew  
CaptainBlueBeard: !!i SpiritOfTheSea  
* @PogoThePirate cordially invites SpiritOfTheSea on board  
* SpiritOfTheSea just arrived on board  
OneEyePete: It might be just me but  
OneEyePete: Doesn't it feel weird to have the ship arriving on board?  
OneEyePete: On board of what? Itself?  
OneEyePete: Shouldn't we rename the channel as well?  
CutthroatJim: All in good time  
OneEyePete: Now that I think about it  
OneEyePete: We can't rename channels, we will have to move to a new one  
OneEyePete: OMG, that reminds me I hardcoded the channel name multiple times  
OneEyePete: Why didn't I put it in a variable?!  
OneEyePete: I'm going to have to change all that  
CutthroatJim: At this rate you'll never be able to catch up on all your missing sleep  
OneEyePete: I think my computer will burn out before I'm done with all this  
CaptainBlueBeard: Can we go back to the topic at hand?  
OneEyePete: Aye! Aye, Captain!  
OneEyePete: Sorry, CJ. You can continue  
CutthroatJim: Right  
CutthroatJim: So, for now, our ship looks like this  
CutthroatJim: !!ss show ship  
SpiritOfTheSea: __/\\__  
SpiritOfTheSea: ~~~\\____/~~~~~~  
SpiritOfTheSea: ~ ~~~ ~  
CutthroatJim: That's the starting picture  
CutthroatJim: We will update it as we get bigger and better ships  
CutthroatJim: Of course we have our own Jolly Roger  
CutthroatJim: !!ss show flag  
SpiritOfTheSea: ___  
SpiritOfTheSea: \\_/  
SpiritOfTheSea: |._  
SpiritOfTheSea: |'."-._.-""--.-"-.___.-'/  
SpiritOfTheSea: | \ .-. (  
SpiritOfTheSea: | | (@.@) )  
SpiritOfTheSea: | | '=.|m|.=' /  
SpiritOfTheSea: | / .='`"``=. /  
SpiritOfTheSea: |.' (  
SpiritOfTheSea: |.-"-.__.-""-.__.-"-.)  
SpiritOfTheSea: |  
SpiritOfTheSea: |  
SpiritOfTheSea: |  
CaptainBlueBeard: Cool art  
CaptainBlueBeard: Which one of you made these? CJ?  
CutthroatJim: I wish  
OneEyePete: Nah, we found this ASCII art on the internet  
CutthroatJim: Naturally, the ship comes with its own stats  
CutthroatJim:!ss show stats  
SpiritOfTheSea: Name: Spirit of the Sea  
SpiritOfTheSea: Description: TBD  
SpiritOfTheSea: Sail Plan: TBD  
SpiritOfTheSea: Crew members: 0/0  
SpiritOfTheSea: Miles traveled: 0  
SpiritOfTheSea: Barrel of Rum in the cargo hold: 0  
SpiritOfTheSea: Score: 0  
OneEyePete: If I may  
CutthroatJim: Go ahead  
OneEyePete: I linked our score of the ShantyBot's leaderboard to the ship score  
OneEyePete: So playing ShantyBot will up our overall score  
OneEyePete: I'm finishing a brawling bot that will be linked to this score as well  
OneEyePete: I'm done you can continue CJ  
CutthroatJim: Thank you Pete  
CutthroatJim: Our character sheets will be accessible here as well  
CutthroatJim: !ss show crew  
SpiritOfTheSea: The ship has 0 crewmembers on board  
CaptainBlueBeard: That seemed a bit empty  
OneEyePete: Cause we haven't set up the information yet  
CutthroatJim: We don't really have a proper ship atm  
CutthroatJim: That was your part, right?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Right  
CaptainBlueBeard: And how do we update these stats?  
OneEyePete: Easy  
OneEyePete: !ss ustats  
SpiritOfTheSea: Type !ss uship to update the ship  
SpiritOfTheSea: Type !ss uchar to update the crew members  
OneEyePete: Either one will ask you which stats of the ship/crew you want to update  
OneEyePete: Then you use !ss X Y newValue  
OneEyePete: X being either uship or uchar  
OneEyePete: Y being the number of the category to update  
CaptainBlueBeard: Noted.  
OneEyePete: For now we all three have the right to update stats but in the future we could restrict it to the captain and the storyteller  
CaptainBlueBeard: Storyteller?  
CutthroatJim: The one that is driving the current story, for now it's you but perhaps you will let us stir it from time to time  
CutthroatJim: I've some cool ideas for a few adventures already in mind  
CutthroatJim: And I was thinking  
CutthroatJim: To prevent confusion, the storyteller should talk through SpiritOfTheSea for the story part and use their handle only for their character dialogues or actions  
CaptainBlueBeard: I like the sound of that  
CutthroatJim: BTW if you need help on some aspects, don't hesitate to ask  
CutthroatJim: My parents are running a Tabletop game every weekend and I was able to spectate some of them  
CutthroatJim: So I'm kind of an expert on the subject  
CaptainBlueBeard: I guess we will start with setting up our characters then we will go pick a ship, sounds good?  
OneEyePete: Good for me  
CutthroatJim: Okay, when do we start?  
CaptainBlueBeard: We can start now if you both have time?  
CutthroatJim: I'm ready  
OneEyePete: Let's go!

* * *

The seventeenth century was in its final year. Having lost my ship and crew in a freak tornado, I, Captain Bluebeard, found myself land-bound, sitting at a small square table in the corner of a shady tavern of busy Boston. I had salvaged my impressive new black coat which was a suitable wear for recruiting. Of course, I had my two guns strapped to my chest, always loaded, always ready for anything, and my characteristic blue hair was hidden under my large black hat. Losing my ship had been hard but at least I had been able to save the most important item on it: a treasure map. So I was forming an expedition to retrieve the bounty. I was attending this watering hole with two of my new recruits.

The man sitting at my right was One-Eye Pete. His dark brown hair was held by a red bandana and, as his name suggests, he was wearing a brown eye patch with a red eye sewn on. He was sporting a ripped Spanish colonial jacket with a weather-worn pair of red leather pants. Whether he was a deserter or he had acquired it from one of his victims, I hadn't gathered yet. I had spent a few months with One-Eye Pete and found him satisfyingly qualified for the role of First mate.

The man to my left was our latest acquisition. He had borne several names but was using Cutthroat Jim for now. I had rarely seen him in public without a dashing smile on his face. He was wearing a simple opened white shirt that was letting him display his chest hair and a pair of brown cotton pants.

He said he was once a spy for the British Empire that had been turned by the Spanish and had been forced to flee to this British colony to avoid a death sentence from both countries. My guts were saying he could have invented the whole story but his delivery had been so flawless, a lesser man would have believed him without a second thought. He was a strong sweet talker and would be useful when diplomacy would be required over violent action. But when diplomacy wasn't needed, his vast knowledge of ship design saw himself assigned to the role of Sailing Master.

One-Eye Pete emptied his fifth pint, belched loudly and went straight to the point.

"So you're saying, there is a treasure buried deep into the sea and you're the only one who knows about it."

The captain stared at his new First mate.

"Aye! It all be there on me map."

Cutthroat Jim was keeping an ear on the conversation but had its attention focused on the surrounding crowd of the tavern. He was letting his fellow crew mate do the talking for now.

"And you expect us to go retrieve it."  
"Aye!"  
"Just the three of us? Without a ship or deep diving equipment..."  
"Don't worry about all this me lad, I've got a plan!"  
"Oh, thanks Poseidon, he has a plan. I'm so relieved. I was wondering how one could transform this impossible task into a reality."

One-Eye Pete finished his sarcastic comment by rolling his single eye and grabbed his drink. Intending to chug what was left of it, he brought it to his mouth, tilted his head back but nothing came out of the glass. He double-checked the content, in case the liquid courage had been hiding at the bottom then angrily smashed the cup to the ground. A waitress approached their table carrying a trait full of beverages.

"Captain?"  
"Yes, CJ?"  
"Could there be a suspiciously overdressed man sitting a few tables from us?"  
"Why not? We are all shaping the story together. If you have ideas, just throw them out there and we will pick up on them or reject them if we're not okay with them."  
"Cool."

Cutthroat Jim took the freshly pints filled pints from the waitress and thanked her while flashing her one of his devastating smiles. A sinister long coat wearing man sitting two tables away had caught Cutthroat Jim's attention earlier and hadn't moved in a while so he took the lull in the conversation as an opportunity to chip in.

"Don't worry my friend, I'm sure our captain's plan is a solid one. There, drink this to calm down."

One-Eye Pete took a drink as well, chugged it in one go, burped and put the empty glass back on the trait.

"Okay, Captain, we are all ears. What's your master plan?"

I took a sip out of my drink and coughed. This thing was awful but it would have to do for now.

"Alright, first, we must be at the dock by seven. There our ship awaits."  
"Our ship? Which ship? You just said we had no ship."  
"Ye be findin' out when we be there. If ye be done with yer drinkin', we should go now."

I stood up, fished into my pocket for a few quarters and dropped them on the table. That should be enough for the drinks and a couple of new glasses.

Cutthroat Jim stood up as well, adjusted his jacket and glanced one last time towards the suspicious man. He had been joined by another fellow by now and his demeanor had completely changed. Cutthroat Jim finally relaxed for the first time this evening.

One-Eye Pete rolled his one eye at the change of behavior in his crew mate and joined us outside of the tavern. He had something on his mind.

"CJ, what’s it with this guy?"  
"I thought he was someone I recognized from my old line of work but I was mistaken."  
"So that was totally pointless?"  
"It helps reinforce my character background and it builds up an atmosphere."

All these talks weren't appropriate for seventeenth century pirates.

"Could you both refrain from the out of character chatter please?"  
"Sorry, boss."

While the immersion was out of the window, I tried to gather some feedback on our performance so far.

"But while we are at it, how is it going so far?"  
"You could have rejected my suggestion but you went with it. That was cool. Keep going like that."  
“So I can just add whatever element to the story?”  
“Yes Pete, that’s the spirit of the thing. If it fits the theme and the atmosphere that is. Don’t go add in a dragon or some other no sense.”  
“Okay, got it.”  
"Alright, if we’re all good we can go back in character now."

One-Eye Pete had a good question.

"By the way, Mister Bluebeard, why are you the captain? Are we supposed to all vote to decide who our captain will be?"  
"That be easy, Pete me lad, who here has the map to the treasure?"  
"You have."  
"And who here has the plan?"  
"You have."  
"And who here dragged yer sorry lots out of whate'er gutter you came from and gathered ye all together and invited ye in on the plan?"  
"You have."  
“Do we really need to have a vote on the matter, lad?”  
“No, Captain.”  
"Ha. Exactly what I be wantin' to hear."

Our little talk ended right when we arrived at our first destination. Despite the early hours of the morning, the docks were already booming with activity. A beautiful green and black schooner had just been lashed down and was being emptied out. Several other ships were being filled up with goods and seamen, ready for their next voyage.

I pointed at the pier situated on the farther right of the dock. Three vessels were getting prepared. A sturdy-looking catboat sporting a used grey sail, a pristine white sailed sloop and a very traditional Bermuda cutter with three dark brown sails.

"There be our ship."  
"Which one?"  
"That be the right question, Pete. Every single one of these three ships be sailing for the New York colony and we have to be on board of one of them."  
"What's in New York, Captain?"  
"Ye haven't guessed it by now Jim?"  
"I'm afraid not."  
"The next part of the plan of course!"  
"Right, that clarifies everything..."  
"Now I’ve a task for ye lots. Ye be deciding which one of this ship we be boardin'."  
"If it's only the three of us we should get the catboat."  
"You're crazy Pete. Sure we can operate it with only three people but it's a very slow ship, we won't make it to New York in less than two weeks. I don't feel like spending a long time at sea in such a tiny ship. It's not even a ship! It's a boat!"  
"Okay, but if we pick one of the other two, we will have to have a bigger crew. No way we can make it with only us."  
"We could still try to join the ship as part of the crew and just suggest to our new captain to let us leave once we arrive at New York."  
"They will want us to pay a fee for transportation in this case. Not sure working our way to New York should be enough to cover it."  
"Or we could just go to the captain, murder him and take over the ship."  
"Good idea Pete that will go so well with the current crew…"

I was intensively listening to the conversation without adding anything to it.

"So what do you suggest we do Jim?"  
"We corrupt them from the inside. We join the crew and convince them that their captain has to go. THEN we get him out of the way."  
“Sounds like a lot of work. Are you up for the challenge?”  
“Piece of cake. I could do it with my hands tied behind my back. The real question is: will our captain be okay with going back to being a simple sea man?"

Cutthroat Jim turned to me. One-Eye Pete mimicked the new recruit and did the same. It was time to chip in.

"I like yer last idea, Jim. I like it a lot. We be doing that. We are but simple sea men, looking for passage on a ship. Jim, you talk to the captain now and get us on board."  
"Yeah, Jim, let's see your silver tongue at work."

Cutthroat Jim cracked his fingers.

"Alright, watch me work my magic and prepare yourself to be awed."


	13. Outward Bound

The double swinging doors slammed behind me as I heaved a sigh of relief. The weekend was finally here. Two whole days without having to suffer my classmates. What a bunch of idiots, the whole lot of them. As I made my way to the parking lot my mind was focused on my plans for the next two peaceful days. My preparations for the next school year were over and done. I had to wait for Blackwell's decision to accept me or not and that was supposed to arrive in March at the earliest and there was nothing I could do on that subject. At least nothing reasonable. Dad had warned me that trying to bribe the members of the school administration with sweets would be completely inappropriate. School homework had been such a piece of cake lately that I barely had to think about it. It meant I had all the time I needed to work on the next step of Captain Bluebeard's adventure. I had a good idea of the general framework, having written down most of it on my computer already but I had to come up with alternatives to each branch of my plans. CJ had been kicking my behind from the start, always thinking outside the box and finding new ways to go on tangents. We had a lot of laughs each session but I had to rein them in from time to time, we had barely made ten percent of the chain of events I thought we would have accomplished after a month of play.

I arrived at the entrance of the parking lot, jumped down the few cobblestone steps and landed on something moist. Some troublemakers had found it funny to spend the previous night spraying the whole lot in gang signs and weird language. Ha! Gangs. In Arcadia Bay. Those kids must have copied some signs from movies because, last time I heard, there were no gangs in Arcadia Bay. The janitors had started painting the walls back to their original light gray but had apparently encountered some resistance in the process indicated by the couple of turned-over buckets of paint left near the steps. Their content had spilt everywhere, even reaching the bottom of the stairs, right where I was now standing. My shoes didn't appreciate their new coat of paint. Scrapping that crap off would be a nightmare but that was the first thing I would have to do once back home or Mum would surely find out and she would be furious.

Leaving gray footmarks behind, I walked past the only wall that hadn't been vandalized which was sporting a mural of an angry Porky Pig wearing a helmet that barely held on his head, chasing Bugs Bunny on a shiny silver BMX bike. The famous rabbit was in full protection gear, riding a skateboard with his signature carrot in hand, looking back and laughing at his pursuer. At least the troublemakers had had enough decency to leave the mural alone. A few more steps and I was standing in front of the skateboard tower. It was guarded by Sylvester and Tweety who were here to remind the riders to wear their helmets. Students were required to store their skateboards there for safe keeping, locked on the metallic structure while their owners were at school.

Where was my board? At the bottom, of course. A turn of the key, a click and it was free from its enclosure. I needed to do a quick check. Silvester and Tweety were sweet but couldn't prevent vandals from damaging the equipment. All pieces looked to be in their proper place, nothing was missing. The board joined the ground, rolled a few inches and stopped against the pavement curve. It was ready to go. My foot hoovered an inch over my ride then promptly went back on the ground. My feet were full of paint, there was no way I would contaminate my skateboard with that. I had to scrape it off right now if I didn't want to make my way home on foot. The janitors had set up a tarpaulin near one of the walls. It had a paint-free spot that was perfect for my needs. I scrubbed the soles of my shoes clean on it. At least as clean as I could get them. I scrubbed and I scrubbed. But the sole of my shoe was still tainted by the paint and if I scrubbed them more there wouldn't be any sole left. I took a step on a clean spot. At least it wasn't sticky anymore and it didn't leave a trace. That would do. I was really ready to ride this time.

I jumped on the board, rolled towards the exit and made my usual left turn. I was readying myself for the acceleration needed to go through the long straight line ahead in the shortest amount of time possible when a horn honked behind me. I wasn't expecting that at all, my heart stopped for a second and I lost my balance. My board swerved left and I nearly hit the sidewall. I was able to recover just in time and stop. I dropped from the board, picked it up and looked furiously in the direction of the offending noise.

My mood made a three sixty. A familiar muscle car was the perpetrator and it was driven by none other than Dad. He was waving at me. I bet he was chuckling to himself. I ran to the driver window.

"Hello, daddy."  
"Hey, kiddo. Put your gear in the back and hop on in!"

I nodded and ran to the back of the car. I waited to hear the usual unlocking pop sound and opened the trunk. The back of the car was already occupied by Bongo's traveling cage. The cage was set up but its occupant was missing. Putting the skateboard on top of the cage was a recipe for a flying board inside the car at the first hard turn. Lucky for me, there was a decent spot for it right on the side of the cage. The trunk closed and I made my way to the passenger door. Unfortunately the seat was already taken. My favorite cat had already called shotgun. Trying not to bump into my furry friend, I slid onto the unoccupied part of the seat then picked the cat up and set him on my knees. I started to delicately pet him on the head.

"Hey, you. What are you doing here? And where is your seatbelt?"

Bongo heavily purred under the attention for another two seconds then having probably decided he had had enough, stood up and jumped on the dashboard to enjoy the few rays of sunshine available on this rare sunny February afternoon.

"And what about me? No love for your dear old father?"

I launched myself into Dad's arms and planted a kiss on his five-o-clock beard. All my anxiety of the day disappeared when I was in his embrace. The stress was dissipating, I was calm and secure. I wanted this feeling to last forever. I buried my face into his chest and kept it pressed there.

"Hey, kiddo! Difficult day at school?"  
"No more than usual."

I halfheartedly let go off my father, sat back on my seat, buckled up and went back to petting my best friend. Dad hadn't started to drive and was still looking at me. My answer hadn't satisfied his curiosity, he probably wanted me to elaborate.

"We nearly had a full hour of normal English lesson until Gregory decided he absolutely needed to throw a paper at Jenny. He turned around a bit too fast and one leg of his chair broke down. I know our furniture is old and decrepit but this guy isn't really helping anything by breaking things earlier than necessary. That's not the first chair that he'd broken this year. It's like he has something against them. Anyway, the rest of the class decided it was as good an excuse as any to spend the following hour on anything but the planned lesson… Such a colossal waste of my time! I can't wait to get out of here!"

I took a break from my rent to stare into the open parking gate in front of me.

"Stay strong, kiddo. Only a few more months and you will be welcomed into the higher education provided by Blackwell Academy. I bet the people there will be more to your level."

Dad was always able to find the good in every situation. I wished I had his confidence in the future though, there were still so many obstacles in front of me before I could really go to my dream school.

"Yeah, only if they accept my application AND if we can afford it. This waiting is killing me! Why is it taking so long?"  
"You know how pesky the bureaucracy can be, they are probably handwriting your acceptance letter and making sure they don't leave any typos."  
"Or they forgot about me and threw the application in the trashcan and I'll never get an answer."  
"I don't think they'd do that. They would miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime to have such a Price in their establishment."

I snorted and despite my best effort to make a show of disappointment, I couldn't stop my face from lighting up.

"Daaad! That was a bad one!"  
"Still, it made you smile."

He was looking at me with an even bigger smile. How could anyone ever get mad at him with a smile like that?

"Anyway, I wish it was September, so that we'd be done with all that and I could start with high school already!"  
"Today is your lucky day, kiddo. I've got just the thing to make it happen."

His dashing smile had transformed into a mischievous one. What was he planning this time? I narrowed my eyes and stared at him suspiciously. His hand disappeared into his leather jacket only to reappear a second later, holding an old copper pocket watch. He opened the lid to reveal a beautifully crafted pair of steel clock hands onto a white background.

"See, this is no ordinary watch, but a time traveling apparatus! If you hold on to it and move the hands clockwise, it will move the flow of time forward, if you do it for long enough you'll be able to jump a few months ahead."  
"Oh, really?"  
"Don't you believe me? Just try it for yourself."

That was a bunch of bull but he seemed into the idea so I humored him. I had to be careful with this item. I delicately took the watch he was handing to me and I had a closer look at it. It was the kind that was made the old way, all mechanical, no plastic or LED screen but it was surprisingly light. The hands were made to look like pistons and were joined together at the center by a rusted gear. I brushed the center of the clock with the tip of a finger to try and scratch the rust off but it wouldn't bulge. It was part of the design. The background was made of several small curved sheets, they could be made of ivory but they looked too white to be that. Perhaps they had been painted over. I tilted the clock to check it out under a different light when a ray of sunshine hit the background of the clock and reflected into multiple different colors. The side of the clock was uneven. It had a weird inscription, it looked like Arabic. All in all, the watch had an elegant design but wasn't showing anything extraordinary that would hint at it having special powers. I checked with Dad to see if I had the procedure right.

"So, I just move the big hand and I will jump in time. Just like that."  
"That's the trick."

Something was missing, it couldn't be that simple. I couldn't be simply moving in time, I had to move in space also. At the speed Earth is traveling in space, I would end up far away from its surface for sure.

"Where would I be then?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"If I move forward in time, where will I end up? Will I still be here, sitting in this car in front of the school? Shouldn't I use it outside, in a secure place, so that I don't end up on my ass because the car would have disappeared or gotten run over by another car that happened to be on the road when I finished the jump?"

Dad paused for a second.

"You're right to be cautious about this but you don't have to worry about it. I was told you are not entirely jumping in time, only your consciousness is. So you will end up where your body was supposed to be at the end of the jump."

It was completely absurd, his answer had only made me think of more questions.

"But how? How can I end up in my body? How does it know what my body is in the first place?"  
"Don't worry about all that, kiddo, the clock is taking care of it."  
"And what do you mean you were told? You haven't tried it yourself?"  
"The occasion to use it never presented itself. So you will be the first to try it."

That was code for "I'm too chicken to try it myself". Was there some danger behind the process that he hadn't told me about yet? Could my body explode during the jump and my consciousness self would be doomed to haunt the earth anchorless for all eternity?

"Won't I be missing a chunk of memories though? All I was supposed to experience during the timespan of the jump."  
"The clock is taking care of that as well, the memories will be there, waiting for you when you arrive. You will just have to live with the consequences of your other self's actions…"  
"What do you mean? Which other self?"  
"For you, the time between now and the end of your jump will pass so quickly you won't notice its passing but for us it will continue to go at its normal rate and, more importantly, we won't notice you did a jump. So someone has to drive your body around while you're not here."  
"So I could use this device and be in high school right now but I won't have any control over what happened between now and September. If I trust myself, or rather whoever will be taking over my body, to make the right decision during the timespan then nothing wrong should happen. Or I could not use it and continue to be in control of what I do."  
"That's the idea, kiddo."

There were a lot of elements to take into account. I had many things to do before the Fall classes started, an adventure to finish with my online friends, I had yet to master the Kickflip on my board, Mum had ordered a book online that I had planned to read during the summer and I had a game of chess to finish with Bongo. Did I really want to have all these future moments collected into memories or would I prefer to experience them myself first? Would I be able to recall them clearly or would they be already fading? It seemed too much of a gamble.

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I'll pass. I might be impatient now but I would prefer to live all the things that will happen between now and September than having them only be memories."  
"So be it."

I closed the lid and handed the pocket watch over to Dad. He immediately stored it back into his jacket.

I had to know if someone had sold him this story or if he had made it all up himself.

"That was just a regular watch, right?"  
"Uh-huh."  
"Nothing special about it?"  
"Your grandfather had been carrying a similar watch all his life and he told us the watchmaker had only made two of them, your uncle Aaron inherited it when your grandfather passed away. We have been tracking down the second copy ever since. Last week, your uncle finally found descendants of the watchmaker. They had kept the copy in their shop. So he bought it and sent it to me. Other than that, none."  
"I knew it!"

He patted me on the head, turned back towards the windshield, grasped the wheel and set the key into the ignition.

"Okay, let's get going. The Price family has held up the traffic for far too long."

What was he talking about? Had I gone deaf? There was no one behind us.

"What traffic? Everyone has left school already. No one is using this road beside us."  
"We still have to get home at some point. Your mother is waiting for us."

Dad switched the ignition on and the car roared to life. It was nice to do the trip back home with Dad for a change. It barely happened anymore, with his job and all. It was unusual that he would have been able to pick me up on this day. Had something come up?

"By the way, not that I don't appreciate you coming up to me but aren't you supposed to be at work for another two hours?"

With his eyes fixed on the road ahead, Dad took a minute before answering me.

"The boss had to go to his daughter's recital, so he let us go earlier."  
"She's a lucky daughter! You never went to any of my recitals…"  
"That's because you never had any to begin with!"  
"That's also true."  
"If only you'd stick to your music lessons, I would have found a way to be at every one of yours."  
"I guess we will never know."  
"It's not too late, you know? What’s stopping you from picking up an instrument?"  
"That would be hard, since we don't have anything inside the car… unless you've been hiding a saxophone inside the glove compartment all this time?"  
"I didn't mean right now, but you could do that once you get home. I'm afraid we don't have a sax but I could get my old guitar from the attic."

I was sure Dad was already picturing me on stage leading a jazz band in front of a whole stadium. I had to rein his enthusiasm in.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Yes, I could have time right now, I don't see myself being too busy until the end of the school year then I'd have the whole summer vacation to practice, but once the new school year starts I'm sure my time will be taken up with all the new activities. I wouldn't want to start something and not be able to continue afterwards."  
"Surely, you could find a way to make time for it."

Dad had tried to teach me to play the guitar when I was younger but my hands had been too small and my fingers couldn't reach all the way around the neck. The notion hadn't appealed to me back then so I had quickly moved on to other things. And I had to move on with this conversation as well. Dad picking me up was unusual but bringing Bongo along was even less expected. That was the perfect subject to branch off towards.

"And what is Bongo doing here? He just decided to bring his own cage and ride along with you? I would think he'd be asleep by now. It's usually his naptime."  
"It was time for his thrice yearly checkup. And since I was home early, I thought, “Why waste a good portion of our Saturday with that while I could simply do it today?”"  
"Smart move. So how's the furriest member of our family doing?"  
"After a thorough examination, our brilliant Doctor Jackdaw concluded that it was the mightiest cat he had ever seen. Bongo might be old but he is as strong as a young one. Barring unforeseen circumstances, he will outlive us all."  
"Then he would be okay to go with us on longer trips… like say Paris?"  
"He would survive an air trip or a sea trip for sure. Though if we choose to travel by sea we should check if he doesn't get seasick first."  
"You are forgetting that Bongo is a mighty pirate, he can't get seasick!"  
"Oh right, my apologies, Captain Bluebeard. I didn't mean to diminish your Quartermaster's abilities. I'm just saying he might not be used to our modern ships."

I accepted the Pirate King apologies. We still had a few things to resolve. We hadn't been able to get Bongo to use the cat cage in the car. And if we couldn't get him to stay in the cage during a simple car trip, he would probably act the same for air or sea ones. I hadn't checked the policy for sea travel but for air travel it had been clearly mentioned that we couldn't keep our pet on our knees during the trip.

"Did you talk to the doctor about our cage problem? I'm not sure they would accept having a cat roaming free on board."

I nodded my head towards the trunk where the empty cage was waiting, probably hoping to be used for something in the near future.

"I did. He gave me a brochure about "how to accommodate your pet to car travel". I put it in the glove box if you want to have a look."

A push of the plastic button opened up the glove compartment, revealing the brochure that sat at the top of the usual clutter. It was full of big letter sentences and useful graphics picturing the do and don't. A three year old could probably follow these instructions. Was it how our doctor was seeing us? Reading the instruction out loud was the appropriate thing to do. Dad might not have read it all already and Bongo was probably eavesdropping on our conversation. I wouldn't have to read it to him once at home.

"Let's see. _Have you presented the cage to your cat in the comfort of your home?_ "

Dad was rolling his eyes while still concentrating on the road. I continued.

"We did that. _Have you made sure he is comfortable in it in the house?_ He is totally comfortable, slept in it numerous times even. _Have you presented the cat to the cage inside the car, while said car wasn't running?_ Yes. _Have you familiarized the cat with the ambient noises of the car?_ Hmmm. I'm not sure, let's check if Bongo isn't too freaked out by the car noises.

Bongo was peacefully asleep on the dashboard. He was far from hissing, running on the walls and clawing his way out like a cat that couldn't handle a car would do.

"That looks like a cat that has no problems with cars."

Dad had a big smile on his face.

"You can look at the rest of the brochure but it has nothing we have already checked and done. I told the doctor that whatever we tried, Bongo wouldn't stay in the cage. Once the car starts, he's always finding a way to get out of it. I told him he is such an escape artist, you would think our Bongo is liquid. He laughed and suggested we put a lock on the cage door."  
"As if we hadn't tried that already. This cat has more lockpicking skills than Selina Kyle!"  
"Indeed. But don't worry, kiddo, I made sure to tell the doctor that as well. You know what he suggested next?"

The doctor had been surprisingly unhelpful on the matter so far or perhaps it was us who had done our research a bit too thoroughly and had already exhausted all our options.

"To keep the cat at home?"  
"No, kiddo. He wouldn't dare say that. His last suggestion was we use a lock with a digital padlock. No way to pick that right?"

I had looked into locks after Christmas once I realized I would have to park my board during school.

"Yeah right. Have you seen the price on these? If we get a cheap one, Bongo will simply destroy it and the good ones are worth more than the cage itself."  
"Might be worth it for the safety of our feline friend."  
"I'm sure he knows how to read numbers. He will end up figuring out the code to unlock his cage."  
"You might be giving him too much credit but I have to admit I would love to see that."

With all that talks about him, either Bongo was deeply asleep or he was just keeping his mouth shut while dying to add his side of the story. I directed my next comment more towards him than Dad.

"I think Bongo is smart enough to know when he should be in his cage or not. We haven't tried to bring him on the highway yet."  
"Sounds like we ought to have a road trip soon then. Maybe a camping weekend?"

It had been forever since we last went camping.

"I like the sound of that! We might teach him how to fish."

The last word woke Bongo up and he turned his head towards me. I took it as an approval sign from him.

"See? He likes the idea already."  
"Won't that interfere with our online activities though?"  
"I'll tell my friends I'm taking the weekend off, they will understand."  
"Or you could invite them along. Your mother and I would love to meet them…"  
"I've already told you, Dad. No mixing online and IRL!"  
"Okay, kiddo. Then I just have to check out the logistics with your mother but I'm sure we will be able to make it work."  
"Road trip!"


	14. The waiting game

On the night of the thirtieth of February, I'd set my alarm for six thirty which was one hour earlier than my normal waking up time on a school day and the next day was a Sunday. The postman usually made his round in the neighborhood earlier in the morning so this way I would be up and ready to receive my letter of acceptance as soon as it arrived.

On the first of March, I jumped out of bed as soon as the alarm started. Still in my pajamas I rushed downstairs and waited by the door. After waiting several long and agonizing minutes I finally heard the mail truck. I opened the door only to find out it'd just passed by the house without stopping. They had said they would be sending the acceptance letter in batches and we should start receiving them today. I had been a bit too optimistic in thinking I would be part of the first batch. I might get it tomorrow. I didn't feel like going back to bed and I couldn't wake up the parents just yet so I had to wait a few extra hours before we could have our traditional Sunday family breakfast. I went back to my room, plunked myself in my comfy bed and continued reading the book I had started last night.

On the second day of March, I woke up one minute before the alarm rang, shut it down immediately and jumped out of bed. It had been a bit chilly the previous morning so I decided to put on my pants and sweater before heading downstairs this time. I glued my ear to the front door and waited. The mail truck’s engine stopped nearby for a minute then started again. I opened the door and went to our mailbox. It was empty. The neighbor's one was full of junk mail though. I sighed and went back to the warmth of the house. I headed up to my room to do some cleaning since I had a few hours to kill before school.

On the third day, my eyes opened before the scheduled time once again but there was no reason to get up just yet so I just watched the numbers on the clock tick up. I had planned to stop it right when the alarm would start to ring but something prevented me from doing so. I was trying to order my arm to press the button but it wasn't moving. It was too comfortable under the bedsheet and didn't want to venture outside. I let the machine ring for a minute then finally shut it and will myself out of bed. I waited and waited but there was still no postman truck incoming. After ten minutes, I checked outside, in case it had come earlier and I had missed it but all the neighbor's mailboxes were empty as well. It never came. Oh well, my skateboard wheels needed greasing anyway.

On the fourth day, I heard the truck from my bedroom window, I rushed to put on some pants but got my legs mixed up and ended up falling on the ground in a loud thud that woke Mum up. The postman hadn't stopped and I decided to go back to staying in pajamas from now on.

On the night of the ninth day, I had a late session with my friends and planned on doing without my beauty sleep for one day. In the morning, as soon as the alarm started to ring I knew my plan would be thrown out the window, I hit the snooze button and went back to sleep. I got lucky, Mum was able to wake me up or I would have been late for school.

On the eleventh day, the postman decided he teased me for long enough and finally stopped by the house, put something into the mailbox and drove away. I opened the door and was met with the cool breeze of a normal March morning. I thought about at least taking my coat but the trip was short so I would survive with it. I warmed myself by running to the mailbox but only found ads and the electricity bill. I felt sick the whole day and Mum told me I had gotten the cold.

On the twelfth day, I was better prepared. My cold was nearly gone but I still put on my pants and jacket before going downstairs. The postman once again only delivered ads.

And on the thirteenth, fourteenth and the following weekend? Nothing important was delivered. I had told Dad that Blackwell Academy might have lost my application. That was meant as a joke at the time but now I was starting to think it might be true after all. And school wasn't helping. Jenny, one of the few that had applied to anything in my year, was already boasting about having received her acceptance letter.

The seventeenth day only brought two bills. I might as well prepare myself for the inevitable. I started to look into our local public high school.

On the eighteenth day, a bird perched itself on my windowsill and sang right after my alarm clock stopped ringing but I wasn't into a singing mood. I dragged my feet towards the mailbox. What kind of ads would it be this time? I didn't even look inside, I just threw my hand into the metal box, fishing for its content then retrieved whatever I had found. It wasn't plastic this time. The spark came back. I opened my eyes and found a brown envelope in my hand but it wasn't wearing the Blackwell Academy stamp. It was a letter from "The Arcadia Bay School Support Group", one of the institutes that my parents had requested financial aid from. That wasn't what I was expecting but perhaps it would be bearer of good news. I could get accepted to Blackwell Academy all I wanted, without money I wouldn't be getting in at all. This envelope contained important information, this morning wasn't a complete loss after all. Mail in hand, I rushed back inside and headed upstairs to the other bedroom of the house. The door wasn't locked so I walked in and went to the side of the bed occupied by Mum who was currently in deep slumber. I tried to wake her up gently .

"Mum. Mum. Wake up."

She turned her head and barely opened an eye.

"Huh… what is it?"

One eye would be enough. I shoved the letter under her nose.

"It's important, you have to open it right now!"  
"Chloe… I'm sure it can wait ten minutes. Let me wake up properly before, please."

I guessed I could survive without knowing for another few minutes. I backed up from the bedside.

"Okay, Mum. But hurry up!"

I went back downstairs and set the letter on the kitchen table. Bongo was sniffing at the stale water in his bowl.

"It has been a long time since I've seen you in the morning. Where have you been?"  
"I wasn't planning on getting woken up earlier every morning."  
"I hope my letter will arrive soon, I miss your soft fur on my face when I wake up."  
"That's not the letter in your hand?"  
"No but that one could potentially solve our money problem."  
"And you went and woke your mother up just for that?"  
"Erh… she might be upset about it. Perhaps I should try to brighten her mood with a good breakfast?"  
"That could make up for it."

I plugged in the toaster and put two slices of bread into it. Solid was done. Liquid was next. Mum had kept the leftover coffee in a pot. I retrieved it from the freezer but the pot was heavier than expected. I unlocked the lid and put my nose over it. It smelled funny but not in a good way. Looked like nothing liquid had survived the night. Strange. I grabbed Bongo's bowl and emptied both recipients into the sink. I cleaned the coffee pot and started to brew a fresh one. I hadn't started drinking coffee yet, but I was sure it would come sooner or later so I had attentively observed Mum and Dad coffee preparation techniques. They both had their own way of making it but would never mind drinking the other one. I tried to reproduce Mum’s preferred method. A few minutes later, the warm smell of hot coffee filled the kitchen. I was satisfied with the result, hopefully Mum would be as well. Bongo patted me on the arm and pointed at the toaster. I had nearly forgotten about them. He had a good eye or perhaps he had been able to smell them getting overcooked? I put the slices on a plate, filled up a cup of coffee and set it next to them. Something was missing. A final touch. I placed the letter against the cup. I dragged a chair from the living room next to the kitchen sink to have a better view of the stairs, then sat down and waited for Mum to come down. I signaled Bongo so he could come on my lap but he wasn’t moving from the counter. Was he fine waiting there or had I missed something and he was distancing himself from me to observe what would happen?

Mum had a still-not-so-quite-awake expression on her face and her hair was a mess but she was coming downstairs, that was all that mattered. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the breakfast.

"Is that for me?"  
"Uh-huh."  
"Well, thank you, sweetie."  


She grabbed a piece of toast, dipped it in the coffee and started to chew slowly on it. All of it without a single glance at the letter. I couldn't wait any longer, the suspense was killing me. My legs were clapping against one another and my butt was making the whole chair vibrate. Mum glanced at me and sighed.

"Alright, alright. Give me the letter, I'll open it."

I quickly got up from my chair, picked the letter up and gave it to her.

"Let me sit down. That's better. Where is the letter opener?"

The envelope wasn’t that important, she could simply tear it up.

"Come on, Mum!"  
"Okay, okay."

She tore up the envelope and started to read its content.

" _Dear Mr. and Mrs. Price, you contacted us about our prestigious grant for…_ blah, blah, blah… _we have been fervent patrons of the education of young children since eighteen ninety nine…_ blah, blah, blah… _only a handful of requests are accepted each year. Your cumulative annual revenue adding up just above the requirement, we have the regret to inform you…_ Oh Chloe, I'm so sorry."

All that for nothing? I couldn't believe it.

"What?!"

"They rejected our requests on the grounds we are making too much money…"  
"That's such bullshit!! If we were making enough money, we wouldn't be requesting a grant in the first place!"  
"Don't worry, sweetie, we still have to hear from the "Grant for Genius" foundation."  
"They better deliver… I guess I'll get ready for school now."  
"Have a good day."

This morning had ended up as a disaster after all.

* * *

Another day and another time up at this insanely early time. I missed my lazy seven thirty AM wake-up call. When would this self-imposed madness end? I stopped in front of the mailbox, took a deep breath and opened it. An oversized envelope was waiting for me inside. Could it finally be the one? I retrieved it and decided to open it right on the spot. I tore the sealed flap but instead of a letter, it contained a small envelope. I threw the opened envelope to the ground and tore open the new one only to get another smaller envelope. What kind of joke was that? I opened the third envelope to discover a fourth one. Surely this was the one last, the envelope was too thin to be able to contain more. As I was about to open what I hoped to be the last envelope, a small breeze blew on my hands, the sudden cold took me by surprise and made me release my hold on the envelope. It flew away, dancing with the wind. There was no way I would let it escape, I ran after it.

The envelope was flying high, I jumped a few times but couldn't reach it. The envelope continued its course toward a giant garbage truck that was backing away in my direction making a horrible beeping noise. It was the kind of truck that had its garbage chute on the back instead of on the top. If the envelope continued on its way, it would certainly end up in the truck. All my hopes to enter Blackwell Academy and receive a proper education giving me access to the best college, my whole future relied on the content of this envelope, I couldn't let this garbage truck eat it. If I couldn't reach it now perhaps I could at least put myself between the envelope and the garbage truck then I would be able to grab it before it entered the truck.

I ran faster than I ever did in my entire life but the wind was working against me, making the piece of paper zigzag as if trying to find a way to reach the truck. The mouth of the garbage chute was too big, I would never be able to cover it all, the envelope would find a way to pass me by and be swallowed by the truck. There was only one thing left to do. I had to get rid of the truck. I turned to face the back of the beeping truck and grabbed it by the rear bumper. I wanted to lift it up so I concentrated, manifesting my desire into reality. I had expected the truck to resist me but it immediately gave way and I was able to lift it up over my head. This truck might have been big and dangerous-looking but it was as light as a feather. I turned towards the ocean and threw it as far away as I could. This show of force had impressed the wind, it conceded defeat and let the envelope land at my feet. It was finally mine.

I opened the envelope only to find it empty. After all this trouble, there was no letter, nothing. That's when the laughter started.

"Ha! Ha! Look at her, she is so ridiculous."  
"How could she think she would go to a private high school?"

My new found power was evaporating, I wasn't so strong anymore. I was so small and insignificant. I tried to run away but the voices followed me. They came from everywhere. I blocked my ears with my hands but I could still hear them. I couldn't escape them.

"Her SSAT score was too low!"  
"Her essay sucked! Unoriginal!"  
"Chloe isn't going to Blackwell!"  
"Chloe isn't worth it!"  
"Look at her, Chloe has no friends!"  
"Chloe is all alone!"  
"Chloe! Chloe! Chloe!"

I couldn't take it anymore, I curled up on the ground in the fetal position and waited… hoping for the voices to get tired and go away on their own. Something wet was touching my cheek. It was coming from some sort of a rough tongue.

I woke up face to face with Bongo.

"I think I'm all clean and awake now, thanks Bongo."

My furry friend stopped licking my face and went to rest on the pillow next to me. I was indeed lying in my bed, the open window was confirming that the sun had been up for quite some time already. Why hadn't my alarm clock woke me? The blasted machine wasn't at its usual spot and in a matter of fact it wasn't anywhere around the bed either. It was typical, when I needed it, it was nowhere to be seen. Lucky for me, Bongo had been there to replace it.

"Looks like my alarm clock failed me. Thanks for waking me up, Bongo."  
"You're welcome. It looked like you were having a vivid dream."

I rarely remembered my dreams or nightmares but this one had stuck to me somehow.

"You can say that."

The front door closed with a loud bang.

"I think something's up, you should ready yourself."

Once my pajamas gave way to my usual set of clothes, I headed downstairs. No one was at the front door and the kitchen, though smelling of fresh hot coffee, was empty as well. There was some movement in the living room. The parental unit was sitting at the table, enjoying their breakfast. Mum had a pen in hand and was working on a crossword puzzle while Dad was reading the Sports section of the morning newspaper. At the center of the table, a seriously broken alarm clock was resting on a small pile of papers. I put on my most innocent looking smile and greeted them.

"Hey!"  
"Good morning, sweetie."  
"Morning, kiddo. Come join us."

Mum hadn't lifted her head from her puzzle but her tone of voice indicated it was a laughing matter. Dad moved the chair opposite to him away from the table with his feet. I sat down and crossed my hands together. Dad was looking at me, probably expecting me to tell what happened to the alarm clock. My fingers started to fidget.

"I can explain."  
"I'm sure you can, sweetie."  
"I may have confused my alarm clock for a garbage truck and threw it at the window that I'd forgotten to close last night, so instead of the clock bouncing off it…"  
"That makes no sense, sweetie."  
"It must have been quite a throw. It flew over the front yard and landed right on the street. Lucky for you the car that ran it over wasn't bothered by it. That could have provoked an accident."  
"I'm so sorry!"  
"You know we will buy a new one with your allowance money, right kiddo?"  
"Of course, Dad."  
"Alright. The postman came earlier and delivered a few letters. I think there is one for you. You can open it now if you want to."

Mum had finally stopped paying attention to the puzzle and was looking at me with a small smile on her face. Dad lifted up the remains of my alarm clock to reveal three letters: two small ones, beige and brown, and a slightly bigger white one. I picked them all up. The small ones were addressed to "The Price Family" while the other was exclusively naming me. I put the other two back on the table and started opening mine. The header of the letter inside had the stamp of Blackwell Academy. It was finally here! It was better to rip the bandage off quickly, I scanned the letter as fast as I could for any sign of rejection. It was all boring generic sentences until I hit the one that changed everything. I had to read it out loud to believe it.

" _We have the privilege to accept your request and would be honored to have you amidst our student body next year._ I'm in!"

Mum's smile grew bigger and Dad was ecstatic.

"Hurray!"  
"Congratulations, sweetie. I'm so proud of you!"  
"We both are!"

Bongo brushed against my leg, his purring meant he was happy for me as well.

"I can't believe it, I'm going to Blackwell Academy! No more mediocrity! No more subpar education!"  
"Well, not to draw a shadow over the much needed celebrations but it looks like we won't be supported by the "Grant for Genius" foundation."

Dad had opened the white envelope and was now looking at its letter, perhaps searching for something he had missed.

"They are interested in our case but have apparently already filled up their quota for the year. They say we should have requested it a year earlier to have a chance at getting it."

He handed the letter to Mum who gave it a once over, put it back at the center of the table and grabbed the last envelope.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. We really were unprepared for all this after all."  
"Well, honey, the last chance is in your hands. Let's see it."

Mum had the letter containing the answer to the third and last financial aid request they had requested. My whole future relied on the paper contained in the small brown envelope. A cut of letter opener later, Mum was focused on reading the content of the letter, with her serious poker face on, not letting me know which way the letter was going. She probably didn't want to repeat the fiasco from last time. I was on the edge of my seat, a few more minutes of this and I would literally end up on the ground. Mum, having apparently finished her reading, finally spoke up.

"Oh well…"

That wasn't a good start.

"Looks like they didn't give us the partial grant we were expecting."

I wanted to scream but the words got stuck in my throat. That was it, the end of the road. Instead of being welcome to a school building I was in front of a giant cliff. Being accepted without any money was the same thing as not being accepted at all. My Blackwell's dreams would remain just that, dreams. Public school it would be. For me and for all the rest of my current classmates. It was going to be hell for at least another four years. Would I survive this torture long enough to reach college? Would any college accept me without the proper credentials? They wouldn't. I should just abandon it all right now. I would never achieve my dream, I might as well prepare myself to go work in the fast food industry or something. My eyes started to water. Dad was a resourceful man. Perhaps he would be able to make it better, find a way to solve this nightmare somehow.

Dad was staring at the queen of the household with a serious "Don't do that" gaze. I had apparently missed something. I followed dad's stare. Mum had the end of the left side of her mouth pointing up, not down. That explained why Dad was always winning during our poker night, he had an inhuman attention to details. Was she joking? Dad had caught her but she didn't give up her charade.

"Mum? Please… You're killing me!"

She broke eye contact with Dad and focused on me for a long second. When she finally opened her mouth I held my breath and prepared myself for the worse.

"They are offering you a full grant for the next four years!"  
"A full grant, really, honey?"

Dad was as surprised by the news as I was.

"It says it right here."

My deceptive mother handed him the letter and he started to read it intensively. He put his finger up, indicating he had found something to add but was still smiling so it mustn't be too severe.

"There are some conditions of course. You need to keep a good attendance and your grades have to stay up. But all in all, it looks like we won't have to worry about finances at all. Congratulations once again, kiddo."

My mouth was wide open but I couldn't find anything to say. I had done it. My future was secured for the next four years and with this, the door to the best colleges would surely be open to me afterward. And all I had to do was go to class, do my homework and study, simple things I was already doing without effort already. The amount of joy filling my body was overwhelming, I couldn't stop myself from starting to bounce up and down.

"I've got a full ride to Blackwell Academy!"


	15. Expedition and bounty

I should have brought a backpack. The more I thought about it, the clearer it had become. Riding a skateboard at high velocity with only one free hand wasn't such a good idea. My free arm was waving around, trying to balance out the weight carried by the other one. Or I could have used two bags instead of only one, I would have been more balanced this way but what if I fell? I would need a free hand to grab onto something! That wouldn't have worked. I could have just kept my skateboard in hand and walked but that was a long trip back home and I didn't feel like walking anyway. My busy hand was carrying a plastic bag full of travel brochures. The only traveling agency in Arcadia Bay had seen poor results and was going to close for good in two months. Apparently the good people of Arcadia Bay were so in love with their town they barely traveled outside of it. Or they did all their booking business online. I had heard of the establishment's demise on the local radio news so I had decided to skip my after-lunch plans and rushed over there. It wasn't like I was missing much. I had to choose between sitting on my ass in front of the TV, watching whatever documentary the History channel would broadcast or spent the afternoon talking with some travel specialist and preparing for our upcoming trip to Paris. I had chosen to go now while I still had some free time. School would be starting soon and I would probably be too busy afterward to do that.

After having extracted as much information as I could from the agency's employees, I had got my hands on tons of documentation about what to visit in the City of Lights. I ran out of the shop like a proper pirate after a successful raid carrying my loot. The bag was so heavy I had to switch arms every minute or so to relieve the pain that was starting to build up. At least I was getting a great strength exercise for my arms out of it.

The final crossroad before arriving home was in front of me, I was readying myself for a hard turn when I got distracted by an unexpected sound in the distance. The neighborhood was usually calm on Sunday afternoons but this one was an exception to the rule. The sounds of birds happily chirping about their day was replaced by those of an electric guitar and drums. Had a surprise music festival been set up in my neighborhood while I was gone? I tried to locate where the music was coming from and I found myself following the same path as the one leading to my own house. Perhaps one of the new neighbors had left their window open. I stopped in my front yard and picked up my board with my free hand, more by force of habit than anything else. The song was coming either from my home or the house behind it.

I wedged my skateboard against my armpit and slid my hand into my pocket. I bent myself until I could reach for the keys. I aligned my body so I could access the door's keyhole then plugged the key in. A twist of the hand and the door opened. I had unlocked the Price residence without having to put either my skateboard or my overflowing bag of traveling brochures down! As soon as I set foot inside, it became clear that the music had been coming from our home. Someone must have left the radio on and it was blasting at full volume.

"I'M JUST FINE AND YOU'RE A TOOL."

Or perhaps someone was going deaf and it had been done on purpose? I tried to shout over the music.

"Mum! Dad! I'm home!"

The plastic bag, which had been on the verge of exploding since I had left the travel agency office but had been holding on fine all the way, realized it had accomplished its life mission of bringing its content into my house and decided to up and die on me. I barely heard the crack of the plastic giving up but I felt my hand getting lighter as the content spilt on the floor.

"Dammit!"

I immediately bent down to collect the colorful papers before they'd spread everywhere. This unfortunate event didn't stop the radio from continuing to destroy my ears.

"SO, SO WHAT? I AM A ROCKSTAR."

The parents should have been around by now. Why weren't they answering? I tried again.

"Mum? Dad?"

The only answer I received was from the singer.

"I GOT MY ROCK MOVES AND I DON'T WANT YOU TONIGHT"  
"Good for you, but where are they? They should be back by now."

Perhaps I had missed something from their instructions. I set my pile of brochures on the kitchen table, approached the fridge, grabbed the note they had left for me earlier in the day and read it to myself once more.

"Hey, kiddo! I hope you enjoyed your sleep in. Your mother and I are having lunch with the neighbors - thank me later for saving you from that - then we are heading to the market, we'll be back around four. In case of emergency you can join us on my new cellphone. If you have already forgotten it, the number is…"  
"THE WAITER JUST TOOK MY TABLE"

Dad was right, I was thankful he had spared me that torture. I'd always wondered what Mum found in them. Dad was such a trooper for enduring these two-hour lunches every month. But since Mum was going and she wanted his support, he had to go as well. What one has to do for love. Dad had said they would be back by four and it was… Twelve to four. Looked like I came back home earlier than I had thought.

"AND GAVE IT TO JESSICA SIMPS"

I loved P!nk but I had to shut this down before the parents came home. They could probably hear it from over there anyway. If I could stop it on time they would never know it was coming from here.

I gathered my mountain of brochures and sped up the stairs to find out the pop rock song had been blasting from my own room. Lucky for me, the door was already unlocked, I wouldn’t need my hands. I kicked it fully open, dropped my bundle onto the bed and went to turn the HIFI volume all the way down. My ears were thankful. While turning back towards the bed I spotted my furry friend enjoying the spring sun on the edge of the window. Something outside had clearly caught his attention.

"Bongo! How many times did I tell you not to listen to your music so loud?"  
"But that's the new P!nk single! It rocks!"  
"It sure does but I'm not sure that the kind of music our elderly neighbors like to listen to. Remember what Mum always says: you're allowed to enjoy whatever kind of music you want as long as you don't force it on other people."  
"I'm not the one that left the radio on anyway…"  
"I'm pretty sure I switched it off before leaving. It didn't turn on by itself while I was gone."  
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."  
"Anyway, it's not Four yet, so we have some time to start preparing our big expedition."

The world outside must have been really captivating because Bongo hadn't moved from his spot to claim his scratches behind the ears. If I didn't know better it would have been as if I was talking to a stuffed animal.

"Bongo? What are you looking at?"

I had to find out for myself what was so interesting. I went by my cat’s side and peered through the window. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There was a nest in the neighbor's tree but it had been here since the start of summer, so nothing new.

"It's nothing. Remind me, where are we going again?"

I went back to my brochures and picked up the one on top of the pile. It was titled _All there is to know about Louvre_. Who had come up with this one? It was clearly missing an article. The Louvre was a must see so I started a new pile on the bed with it at the top. I picked up another brochure. This one was called _Marie Curie Museum_. They had gone minimalist with this one but it was effective. Marie Curie was one of my idols so I had to go there. The brochure went with the Louvre pile. Then my brain switched back to the silly question Bongo had asked.

"Paris! We are going to Paris, we have been talking about this since forever. Sometimes I wonder if you ever listen."

The third brochure was titled _What happened to the Bastille prison_? That had been an important part of the French revolution but visiting a prison would probably not be much fun. But again, Dad had mentioned it once or twice so I couldn't disregard it completely. The brochure went next to the must-sees to form the new Maybe pile. Which brochure was next?

"Paris? But there is nothing interesting to see in Texas!"

The last sentence nearly made me rip the _Eiffel Tower: The Do's and don'ts_ brochure I still had in my hands. I took a deep breath and calmly put the brochure on the Maybe pile. Everyone wanted to see the Eiffel Tower. It was so overdone but Mum had mentioned she would like to experience the view from up there so I couldn't outright reject it either. Perhaps reading this brochure would make me change my mind. But it would have to wait. Bongo, who had still not moved from his spot, needed my attention. His cat brain had some wiring issues, the road movie from the eighties wasn't the first choice that would come to my mind when mentioning this name.

"First of all, Mum told us there are plenty of things to see in Texas, one day she will drive us there and she'll show you the error of your ways. Second of all, I'm pretty sure Paris, Texas was just a fictional town for the purpose of the movie."  
"Paris is definitely a real city in Texas, you should know this, you received a postcard from Uncle Aaron posted from there."

I rolled my eyes. It wasn't the first postcard with a tricky montage my uncle had sent me.

"I'm pretty sure he was using a prop from one of his projects."  
"Look more closely, the card was stamped there."  
"You sure about that?"  
"Of course I'm sure but if you don't believe me, the card is in the upper drawer of your computer desk."

I was still not convinced but I had to check it out. I walked to the computer and, since I would be using it later on, I took the opportunity to boot it up. Unlike the computer that was coming to life without complaint, the drawer wasn't cooperating at first. I had to wiggle it a fair bit before it deemed it okay to open but it made up for it by having the card right at the top of a pile of old letters. It had been made from a photo Uncle Aaron had probably taken himself of a small souvenir Eiffel tower placed on top of a town sign saying "Paris". He had added a funny quip at the back of the card that read "Paris? Been there, done that.". A closer look at the stamp confirmed it had come from the town. He could have faked the stamp as well and just delivered the card in our own mailbox. I wouldn't have put it past him but that was a bit too elaborate for a simple card and Dad would have probably mentioned it when I had opened it. So it must have been a genuine stamp. I had to apologize to someone.

"Looks like you were right, Bongo."  
"I'm always right!"

The postcard went back in the drawer that closed on the first try. The computer was done booting up by now. A double click on the OTP icon to start the application then it was time to go back to bed to focus on my brochures.

"Anyway, we are not going to Paris, Texas but to the original Paris, the one in France!"  
"So the dream vacation is finally becoming a reality?"  
"Yes! Since going to Blackwell Academy won't cost us a penny, the parents have decided to move all the money they had saved for it towards our vacation instead. It means we can finally go now."

The next two brochures were obvious candidates for the Must-see pile but this following one was a harder guess. Where to put the _Don't miss these quirky things when visiting Versailles!_ Brochure? Versailles was Versailles, I would love to go there one day but our time was short and I wasn't sure we would be able to fit it in our schedule. But I really wanted to go there…

"Excellent! How are you gonna get there?"  
"You mean how are WE going to get there. You are definitely coming with us. Why do you think we have been trying to make you stay in your cage?"  
"So that's what this was all about!"  
"We are going to start our trip by taking a train to New York. It’s the cheapest way to cross the country in a reasonable time."  
"I guess we are not going to cross the rest on foot?"  
"Might be a bit difficult indeed."  
"And not using the car either. We have at least an ocean to cross."  
"Unless Dad was planning on acquiring an all-terrain underwater ready vehicle before that, no, we won't go to Paris with the car."  
"Oh, I know. We are going like real pirates. We will take a ship and sail there then?"

Bongo had brought the thoughts of pirates to the forefront of my mind. My head turned automatically towards the cupboard where the tricorn hat was resting on top of. I loved this hat to pieces. An eternity had passed since Dad had given it to me. I hadn't had any opportunities to wear it outside my own room. If we had decided to travel by ship, it would have been one of them.

"That was my first thought. I asked the travel agency if we could go there by ship and they told me a trip across the Atlantic would take at least six days meaning it would consume most of our vacation time. We can't do that."  
"So, no skateboards, no car, no ship, what is left?"  
"We are going to go there on a plane!"

The brochure at the top of the pile had an excess of green and the title was rubbing me the wrong way. I tossed _You must see the Tuileries Garden_ directly on the Maybe pile. I would not be ordered around by a plastified piece of paper, even if Mum wanted to see it. The brochure flew to the designated pile but instead of landing straight on it, it slid on top of it, kept its momentum and glided down the other side of the bed. Great. I had to get up and retrieve it. Or not, if it really wanted to go down there, it could stay on the floor for all I cared. it wasn't worth the effort. It would create its own pile. If no one mentioned it again maybe Mum would forget about it.

"The big metallic thingy that thinks it's a bird?"  
"Uh-huh."  
"Are you sure it's safe?"  
"It's the safest form of travel on the planet."

This next brochure was thicker than the previous ones with a less click-baity title: _Victor Hugo Tour Guide_. I had wanted to check this one out as soon as possible so it went on my nightstand instead of the must-see pile.

"And your dad knows how to fly them?"  
"Of course not… Well to be fair, I never asked him if he knows how to fly a plane. Perhaps he does. But that doesn't matter, we won't be the one flying the plane!"  
"Who will then?"  
"We're not going on a small plane, we're just going to book three seats on a big one. Hopefully we will get a trained pilot at the wheel. And if it's a rookie one, I'm sure there will be an instructor right at her side. We don't have to worry about that."

I didn't even bother looking at the cover of _The Luxembourg Garden_ and _Garden of Plants_ brochures before they went flying with enough force that they joined their friend on the other side of the bed. Gardens were gardens, we had enough of those in town.

"Only three seats? Your mother isn't coming?"  
"Of course she's coming. One seat for her, one for Dad and one for me."  
"But you said I was coming as well. Where would I sit?"  
"I asked but apparently we are not allowed to book seats for pets and I also asked if I could at least keep you with us on my knees but they said it wasn't possible either. You will have to stay in your cage in the special compartment for pets."

The brochure for Notre-Dame had a beautiful recreation of the north rose window as its background. This building had been there for hundreds of years, it would surely be there the next time I would come around. That was another brochure for the Maybe pile.

"How long is the flight gonna be again?"  
"If we take the nonstop option, seven hours give or take."  
"I don't like this idea."

If Bongo would start panicking about this notion now, there would be no chance of making him come with us. I had to act now to appease him and prevent future troubles. That was a good enough reason to get out of bed. I went to him to scratch him behind the ears.

"It will be fine, I promise. I'll make sure you have enough stuff around to entertain you for the whole trip."

Bongo was receptive to my attention, he was purring like an old car engine.

"You better."

This was an opportunity to make him cooperate about the cage but first I had to hit the right spot. My hand moved along his neck until it reached just under his chin. The purring intensified.

"Just promise me you will stay in your cage? I'm not sure they will appreciate it if you run around the plane like that. I don't want them to confiscate you or do something worse."  
"Fine, I'll try to stay in the cage. But if I see something suspicious I can't promise I'll stay and do nothing."  
"If the people responsible for taking care of the pet section during the trip don't see you in your cage, they're gonna panic and make a scene."  
"Alright, I'll try not to get caught then. And I'll be in the cage by the end of the trip, I promise."  
"Thank you. And next time Dad tries to teach you to stay in the cage, please play ball. If you don't make the effort, he will think you won't be fit to travel and they will make you stay with Uncle Aaron and you will miss the whole trip."  
"We don't want that to happen now, do we? Don't worry, I'll play ball. When are we going on this trip?"

My mission was accomplished. I walked back to my bed and shuffled through the brochures, throwing a few on the ground until I found the one titled _Winter in Paris_. The picture on the front was displaying the Eiffel Tower at night during a snowstorm. No, it was more like a snow ballet. It looked completely out of this world. The first thought that had gone through my head when I had laid eyes on it was _what a beautiful picture_ , the second one immediately after that was _it must have been a fake one_ but the travel agents confirmed it had been a real shot.

"We are going in the last week of December, during the winter vacation. Paris covered in snow, it's gonna be magical!"

"If we are lucky to have any snow this year."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Snow isn't a constant over there, they don't get snow every winter like we do here."  
"Well, it's gonna be magical, with or without snow! We will visit the Louvre museum, I'll race you to the top of the Eiffel Tower if we get there. Dad will probably want to try their coffee, to see if it's any different from ours. Don't you think it's gonna be awesome?"  
"Oui!"  
"What?"  
"It means yes in French."  
"I know that!"  
"You know, if we are going to a foreign country, it would be useful to learn a few common sentences in case we don't find any English-speaking people around."  
"That's not a bad idea."

I looked through the pile of brochures that hadn't been sorted out yet but couldn't find any related to the local language.

"You would think they had a brochure for that. Come, Bongo. Let's see if we can find some decent guide on the internet."

Once again, my bed saw me leaving its comfort. The thing must have been confused, thinking I was indecisive on this day. Was I coming or going? The computer chair wasn't as comfortable but it had the advantage of being near the electronic machine. The only thing missing for Bongo to come settle on my lap. A few seconds passed but the distracted beast was still not showing up. Hadn't he seen me going to the computer? The spot he had been sitting earlier by the window was now empty. When did he leave? This cat could be a real ninja when he wanted to. I got back up, went to the door and shouted in the hallway.

"Thanks for letting me talk to myself, let me know next time you decide to bail on me in the middle of a conversation!"

Leaving the door half open, I sat back at the computer. The OTP client was on full screen, it reminded me to check on the time. The clock at the bottom of the screen indicated five past four. I had no time to start learning French, I was supposed to join my friends at four. I checked on the door again, in case Bongo had decided to come back but that wasn't the case.

"Bongo, we are about to start. You better finish your business quick and come back here. Nearly getting eaten by a shark last session is not a valid excuse to skip this one, you'd better get your furry ass back here or I'll make sure the shark has a second round!"

I couldn't wait for Bongo any longer. A command line later and I was in our usual channel. The user list had grown. I didn't recognize the new name but I had an idea of who it might be.

* * *

*** Arrr! Welcome to #ArrrcadiaBay, you scallywags!  
* CaptainBlueBeard just arrived on board  
CaptainBlueBeard: Ahoy me mateys  
CutthroatJim: The captain's here!  
CaptainBlueBeard: MagnusOfNiflheim be ye our new mate Elamon?  
CutthroatJim: Aye, aye! I was able to find him a cheap computer so he can join us on weekends now  
MagnusOfNiflheim: Hey  


* * *

Since our newest recruit had been able to join us, I wouldn't have to use the filler adventure I had prepared to occupy ourselves until Monday. We would be able to continue straight with the main course. I had already had a private chat with the new guy to work on his character but there was still a problem with the name he had currently picked up. I wasn't sure it would fit properly with the crew. I would have to talk to him about it but I wouldn't have time to do it in private like last time. It was starting to be a tradition, always recruiting people with initial inappropriate names.

* * *

CaptainBlueBeard: MagnusOfNiflheim, me lad, be ye a pirate or a viking?  
MagnusOfNiflheim: Oh sorry, I use this nickname for other things  
MagnusOfNiflheim: I'm still not sure which name to choose  
MagnusOfNiflheim: I hesitate between Horatio Stormbreaker, the survivor of a thousand tempests  
CutthroatJim: I like this one  
MagnusOfNiflheim: or Magnus the unsinkable, no sea is trouble enough to stop him. Every ship he has ever embarked has reached its destination.  
CaptainBlueBeard: Your second idea sounds good but that won't match with our current setting.  
MagnusOfNiflheim: What do you mean?  
CutthroatJim: The captain means that you might have to break your record right at the start  
CaptainBlueBeard: I'll probably have to take a break soon  
CaptainBlueBeard: To help my parents unload the groceries once they get home  
CaptainBlueBeard: So we can wait a bit until they're back so that it doesn't happen during the session  
CutthroatJim: We have to wait for OneEyePete to show up anyway  
CaptainBlueBeard: What's taking him so long?  
CaptainBlueBeard: He's usually the first one here  
* OneEyePete just arrived on board  
CaptainBlueBeard: Speaking of the devil  
OneEyePete: Yo everyone!  
CutthroatJim: Hey Pete!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Look who's last for once.  
MagnusOfNiflheim: Hi OneEyePete  
OneEyePete: At least I've a good reason!  
CaptainBlueBeard: Which is…  
OneEyePete: A dog ate my homework!  
CutthroatJim: LOL  
CaptainBlueBeard: That's ridiculous!  
OneEyePete: I swear! Hear me out!  
CaptainBlueBeard: It's summer vacation, there's no homework!  
OneEyePete: My cousin's visiting for the weekend and he brought his dog  
OneEyePete: The English teacher gave us some books to read during the summer and asked us to prepare a report for them  
OneEyePete: You know, for extra credit next year.  
CaptainBlueBeard: Uh-huh, go on  
OneEyePete: So I had finished my last report, left it on the table and went downstairs to eat lunch  
OneEyePete: When I came back, my report was totally shredded! Teeth marks everywhere!  
CutthroatJim: Why did you let the dog in your room in the first place?  
OneEyePete: I always leave my room open when I'm not in, it's not like I have anything to hide in there  
CaptainBlueBeard: Could you have redone it later, like tomorrow or any other day next week? You still had time.  
OneEyePete: I could have but I preferred to redo it while it was still fresh in my mind  
CutthroatJim: I can understand that  
CaptainBlueBeard: Alright, but still, since you're the last one to arrive, you won the right to make a summary of our previous session. And make it good for the new guy!  
MagnusOfNiflheim: Okay, I've decided, I'll go with CptHoratioStormbreaker  
CutthroatJim: Alright, let me add you to the whitelist  
CutthroatJim: !!wl CptHoratioStormbreaker  
@PogoThePirate: CptHoratioStormbreaker has been added to the crew  
CutthroatJim: And done, you can switch now  
* MagnusOfNiflheim is now known as CptHoratioStormbreaker  
OneEyePete: Oh! Two captains on board? That's gonna be fun.  
CaptainBlueBeard: Be not worry Pete, the lad checked with me first  
CutthroatJim: Stop trying to start shit up OneEyePete and go on with your summary  
OneEyePete: Alright  
OneEyePete: We started looking for a treasure that the captain had known of from a map he'd got  
OneEyePete: We had to acquire equipment to go and retrieve it  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: What kind of equipment? Aren't shovels easy enough to get?  
OneEyePete: The treasure is deep into the sea, shovels won't cut it  
OneEyePete: We had to get underwater gears  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: Like a scuba?  
OneEyePete: Yeah except that didn't exist at the time  
OneEyePete: So we had to get something more contemporary, like a diving bell  
OneEyePete: Anyway we went through three ships to get to the Big Apple where we were supposed to meet this blacksmith that was forging one for us  
CutthroatJim: You can't call it that  
OneEyePete: What?  
CutthroatJim: The Big Apple nickname had been coined in the 1920s, it's an anachronism to use it in the 1700s!  
OneEyePete: I'm just summarizing, it's not important  
CutthroatJim: And it was four ships.  
OneEyePete: Four ships? I recall only three  
CutthroatJim: It's definitely four  
OneEyePete: Let see: we had the Tiger's Spear that we rammed into the French frigate, what was its name again?  
CutthroatJim: La petit rieuse  
OneEyePete: Right, I meant to look it up, see what this name really meant  
CutthroatJim: After the Spear we borrowed the Spanish sloop that went to rescue us  
OneEyePete: Yes, the Bella Del Mar, nearly made it all the way through, I'll miss her  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: What happened to it?  
CutthroatJim: Pete steered it in the middle of a crossfire between another French frigate and two Spanish gunboats  
OneEyePete: There was fog everywhere, no one could see a thing, who knew how those three ended up there!  
OneEyePete: You're not counting the myriad of merchant ships we had to take to jump from isle to isle?  
CutthroatJim: Nope  
OneEyePete: So we are left with the Admiral's Daughter, the brig we commandeered from an old half-blind captain that finally brought us to New York City.  
CutthroatJim: And as always, you've forgotten the first ship.  
OneEyePete: The Tiger's Spear  
CutthroatJim: No the one before that  
OneEyePete: That one doesn't count!  
OneEyePete: We barely had it for five minutes before we got thrown overboard  
CutthroatJim: I wonder whose fault that was…  
OneEyePete: Hey! I'm not the one that alerted the whole crew of where their rum had gone  
CutthroatJim: And I'm not the one that drank it all  
OneEyePete: You know perfectly well I didn't drink it all myself either  
OneEyePete: I only had a zip then it fell over  
OneEyePete: How could I've known this barrel was their allotted amount of rum for the whole voyage  
CutthroatJim: You would have if you had stayed put during the initiation meeting, instead of wondering around  
CaptainBlueBeard: Guys, can we move on? Or we really be at it until the next morning if we continue like that  
OneEyePete: Right, right  
CutthroatJim: Sorry  
OneEyePete: So anyway, we arrived in New York City what? Six months late.  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: LOL  
OneEyePete: The blacksmith had sold his business and moved farther west by then  
OneEyePete: The bell was still in the shop but we had trouble with the new blacksmith  
OneEyePete: He asked for more money that the captain was prepared to give  
CutthroatJim: That the captain had…  
CaptainBlueBeard: To be fair, I was hoping we would make some money on the way to the NYC  
CaptainBlueBeard: I never thought we would end our journey poorer than we were when we first departed  
OneEyePete: Not that easy to carry a chest of doubloons while trying to escape a sunken ship  
OneEyePete: We tried to steal the bell, such isn't an easy task.  
OneEyePete: We couldn't just grab it and run, not sure if you realize it but these things are huge and heavy!  
OneEyePete: So after two aborted plans, luckily we were never caught, we tried another approach and made a deal with the new blacksmith.  
OneEyePete: A small job for him in exchange for a discount on the bell  
OneEyePete: I'll skip the details for time reasons but this little job took us for a ride for about a month  
OneEyePete: Let's just say that in the end we finally were able to get our hands on the bell and a decent ship to travel with.  
OneEyePete: We finally set sail for the treasure location, spent a few weeks sailing there without much going on  
CutthroatJim: What about the giant storm and the flying fish?  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: Flying fish? Sounds interesting  
OneEyePete: We will tell you the story another time  
OneEyePete: So we arrived on the right spot, readied ourselves for some deep sea diving  
OneEyePete: Yes, now that I think about it, we shouldn't all have gone underwater at the same time.  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: No one was left behind to keep watch?  
CutthroatJim: Well we left @PogoThePirate to guard the ship  
OneEyePete: This guy is unreliable  
CaptainBlueBeard: The characters don't know it but he saw a big fish, try to grab it and fell overboard  
CutthroatJim: Poor guy had such bad luck on his rolls  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: Wait! Isn't @PogoThePirate just a bot?  
CutthroatJim: He is participating at time when we need more people around  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: Who's playing him then?  
CaptainBlueBeard: No one. He's playing himself  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: What?  
CutthroatJim: Never mind, I'll explain later  
OneEyePete: So we arrive at our current situation  
OneEyePete: CaptainBlueBeard, CutthroatJim and I are in the bell going deep underwater  
OneEyePete: We found out that the bottom of the sea is far lower than expected and the ship broke in two, only a small part of the stern is visible, the rest has apparently sunk deeper  
OneEyePete: We were still able to retrieve some booty from it  
OneEyePete: Meanwhile, a ship that had been following us this whole time, caught up with us and took over our ship  
CutthroatJim: We should really get a proper lookout for next time  
OneEyePete: So when we got back up we were met with enemy's steel instead of Pogo's smile.  
OneEyePete: So Pogo is AWOL, we are in chain in the brig while those filthy pirates are stealing our meager loot  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: And I'm just going to spectate for today I guess?  
CaptainBlueBeard: Not at all. You can start now, you're in the brig with them.  
CptHoratioStormbreaker: Excellent  
CaptainBlueBeard: I'm sorry to have to do this but I've to go afk for a few minutes  
CaptainBlueBeard: Parents have arrived and I need to help them unload the car  
CaptainBlueBeard: Why don't you tell the story of the flying fish to the new guy while I'm gone?  
CutthroatJim: Okay, later!  
OneEyePete: CJ, it's your turn  


* * *

Two horn blows had announced the arrival of my parents. It was time to step away from the computer and rush downstairs. I opened the front door and was greeted by Mum, hands full with a wooden crate filled with various vegetables and fruits. I stepped aside to let her come in then joined Dad that was next to the car trunk, to find something to bring in. A good portion of the trunk was occupied by a banged-up lawnmower. I had seen this model before but I wasn't sure where. Our backyard was of a decent size but we never had enough grass to justify owning such machinery. I directed Dad to the grass cutter with an inquisitive tone.

"New acquisition?"  
"Not at all, it's our dear neighbors'. It finally gave up and broke on them this morning so I offered to bring it to our favorite heavy machinery specialist to take a look at it."  
"Couldn't you have done that yourself?"  
"And spend more time with them than necessary? No, thank you. I'll drive it to Mike's after we are done unloading the groceries. And if we are lucky, it will stay with him for a few weeks. That would give us some peace."

The notion of being able to enjoy our weekend's morning without having to suffer the horrible noise of this monster was enticing. 

"That's why I was able to sleep for so long this morning. No monstrous grass eater to wake me up."  
"Enough chit chat, young lady. Take these two bags while I bring this home."

He picked up a crate full of cans and headed towards the house. I grabbed on the first of the designated bags and tried to lift it up. It was heavier than expected. And the second one wouldn't leave the trunk. It had managed to stick itself in one of the lawnmower wheels. I put the first bag down and tried to unstick the second one without ripping it.

After a successful maneuver, I picked the other bag back up and finally made my way into the house. Dad was already on the way out for another trip. I set the bags on the kitchen table, we would empty them once the car was done being unloaded. I sighed and mentally prepared myself for going back out again.

As I passed the kitchen doorway, a loud clang rang outside. I ran to the front door to check it out but I was only able to catch a glimpse of a red covert speeding past our car and disappearing in the next corner. It must have been going at twice the speed limit. A lone shiny rim rolled down the street in the same direction the car went, probably trying to catch up to it but, failing to do so, it just finished its course crashing on the pavement. That was when the agonizing yowling started.


	16. Sinking with the ship

This cat must have been quite in heat, yowling for its future partner's attention this loudly. But as this went on it became clear that it was anything but a cry of longing. The scream of hurt and distress was horrifying, it never stopped. I was starting to get overwhelmed by it. I tried to close my eyes and cover my ears but the sound passed through anyway. My heart started to beat faster, goose bumps were covering my entire arms and legs. I hoped I would never have to experience the amount of pain whoever was making this noise was having. This thing was sharing its agony with everyone around. After an eternity, the sound finally faded away, leaving only a soft ringing in my ears. I was safe to open my eyes again. I did a quick checkup. I was afraid the scream had burst my eardrum but both ears were fine, no bleeding. There was no lasting physical damage provoked by this experience. The doorway I was standing in was blocking my view of the street so I had to step outside to investigate.

Mum was standing near the car, a bag full of baking goods overturned at her feet. She had one hand covering her mouth and was looking at something on the other side of the street. I was starting to look into the same direction she did when Mum turned around and came running towards me. A second later my vision was obstructed by her sweater. I found myself trapped in a bear hug.

"Oh Chloe…"

What had happened? Why was Mum reacting this way? I freed my head from her chest and finally got a glimpse of the scene on the other side of the street.

The racket had caught the attention of the whole neighborhood. A group of people were gathering around our next door neighbor's sedan. The car had certainly not been the one making that scream. The group was moving around finally giving a view of the full car. It had gained a new dent on its passenger door as well as a splash of red on the otherwise immaculate silver paint job. Something or someone must have bumped against the car and badly hurt themselves. One of the onlookers was bent down on the side of the car, trying to reach for something that was apparently stuck underneath the damaged vehicle. This pair of jeans was unmistakable, that was Dad doing the search. The car hadn't run into the screaming thing, it had been parked in this same spot since the previous night and its usual driver wasn't part of the crowd.

I had to do something, help in any way possible. I disentangled myself from Mum's hug and tried to join the gathering but Mum was holding me by the arm, preventing me from going forward.

"No, sweetie. You don't want to look at it."

Saying that was only reinforcing my need to investigate further. Why wouldn't I want to? Mum's face was red and her eyes watering.

"Mum? What's happening?  
"It went so fast. One minute everything was fine then the red car showed up and started to swerve left and right. I guess it was trying to avoid hitting him… but it ended up banging against the Reynolds' car…"

It was all so confusing. I couldn't make sense of what Mum was talking about. The words were simple but added together… something was missing.

"Mum? What are you talking about? Who is him?"  
"Oh, sweetie… It's Bongo."

Bongo? I turned around expecting to see him standing in the doorway but it was empty. He was probably still in the house, hiding from me, not wanting to confront the shark again or doing his business in the garden. Why was Mum bringing him up?

"What about Bongo?"

There was some commotion around the silver car. Dad was standing up with something in his hand, probably what he had retrieved from under the car. The neighbor from three houses away handed him a box and Dad was putting the thing inside of it. I focused back on Mum. Since she had mentioned him, perhaps she knew where my furry friend was hiding.

"Mum? Where's Bongo?"  
"Sweetie…"

My blood froze inside my veins at the sight of Mum's face. I'd never seen her so sad. I couldn't stand it, I had to look away. Dad was putting so much attention and delicacy into closing this box, it was very weird. His face was red as well and that wasn't due to the blood. Something wasn't right. What was Mum trying to insinuate? If someone was pulling a prank, it was in bad taste and it had gone too far. I tore my arm free from Mum's grasp and ran to our car. I bet the little minx had been in on the joke and was observing the scene from the passenger seat, laughing his furry ass off.

"Bongo? Bongo! Where are you?"

He wasn't showing himself. I checked everywhere. under the car, on the rooftop, searching through every window but I couldn't find him. I might have judged him a bit harshly. He was probably taking a stroll and would surely be running to me once I'd called his name. He always comes back when I call for him. I just had to shoot a little louder.

"Bongo!"

A few seconds passed but he didn't show up. The weird noise from earlier might have spooked him. He probably went back inside the house and the whole thing had distracted me too much to notice it before. The front door was wide open but leading to the hall without traces of him. The kitchen was full of groceries but empty of friends. He wasn't hiding under the sofa or behind the TV. Beside having searched my bedroom twice, there was still no sign of my furry friend. The door of the parent's room was ajar, he might have sneaked inside and fell asleep. He knew he wasn't allowed in their room so I wouldn't have looked for him there under normal circumstances. I searched the room thoroughly but he wasn't there either. Had he ventured into the bathroom? Apparently not. The door of the storage room was firmly closed and the ladder to the attic wasn't set under it so he couldn't have gone in either of them. It was clear, my best friend wasn't inside the house. The next place to check was the garden. Perhaps he was inside the shed, playing with Dad's tools. If he had been anywhere else, he would have shown up by now.

I ran downstairs two steps at a time but midway through I tripped over my feet. Before I could experience what it was really like to literally fly downstairs with the strong possibility of landing head-first against the wall I got ahold of the handrail and stabilized myself. Getting an injury now wouldn't help in my search for Bongo, I doubted he was hiding at the hospital. I slid open the garden glass door and stepped outside. Even nature was conspiring against me; birds were standing on the shed roof as if they knew the local predator wasn't around to chase them away. The aforementioned shed ended up as empty as the rest of the house.

I was being stupid, the reason my furry friend wasn't responding to my calls was so simple, I should have thought about it right away. He wasn't playing hide and seek, he was out of earshot. Bongo had two secret spots in town. Secret as in we never went there together and for one of them, I was sure he didn't know I even knew about the place. Running away for so long while he knew he was expected home was uncharacteristic of him. But if he wasn't around the house I would find him at one of those two spots. They weren't exactly nearby and walking all the way there would take me awhile. I went through the garden door, grabbed my skateboard and went back outside through the front door this time. Mum hadn't moved from her spot in the front yard. She was looking at me with a perplexed expression on her face for some reason. There was no time to explain to her where I was going but since she’d seen me leaving the house she would at least know I wasn't home anymore. I jumped on my board and rode to my first destination.

One day a year, usually around the start of spring, Bongo would walk to a specific tree a few streets away from our house and would spend the rest of the day there. While no one had been around, I had inspected the tree but it didn't seem to have any special quality to it. But that didn't stop Bongo from being called to this tree on this specific day of the year and he would respond without fail.

We were at the end of summer, so my expectations of finding him there were low but since it was on the way to the second spot it would not cost me to check it out. I might be surprised.

I bent my legs to turn the last corner and the tree was in sight. A shadowy form was perched on one of the lower branches. Was it him? I rode faster towards the tree to find out as soon as possible.

"Bongo! Bongo!"

The form, visibly started by my shouts, got up and looked in my direction. It had piercing green eyes and a pitch black coat of fur. Unless Bongo had decided to take a bath into a charcoal pool, that cat was definitely not him. I stopped under the tree for a few minutes to see if he would show up anyway but that was in vain. I jumped back on my board and continued on my way to the second spot.

My neighborhood was calm and serene, except when someone left the radio on at full volume, that is, and it was also quite neat, all the houses were properly maintained, their front facades periodically cleaned up. It wasn't as uniform as the rich suburbs, in fact there weren't two houses wearing exactly the same color but usually they were repainted every five years or so. There was one exception, the black duck of the neighborhood situated half a mile from our house, right on the edge, next to the warehouse. A house that had been left unoccupied for as long as I remembered. Every time Dad would drive us past it, I took notice of the state of the house. It never changed. The entrance was still cordoned off, the walls were barely standing up and the facade had long since lost its paint job. The first time I had seen it was on the night Bongo had felt like going on a secret mission without me. During the week that followed our little adventure, I tried to mention the mission to him but Bongo had become grumpy and ignored me every time. I had been intrigued by the house so I had suggested one time that we should go back there and since he had still been uninterested I would just go by myself. That when he had acted agitated and convinced me to rethink the idea. After that I had dropped the subject and never mentioned it again. I never discovered what the secret mission he was on was about and since we hadn't talked about it ever since Bongo probably thought I'd forgotten all about it. But I never did. Perhaps he hadn't been trying to avoid our pirate session, perhaps he had just gone on another mission. And if that was the case, all I had to do was investigate the house until I'd find him.

The dilapidated house was still standing at its usual place. I called for my furry friend. No answer. I called again and this time the only answer I got was from the sound of a door banging shut. It had come from inside the house and was followed by a faint whining. I had to go inside to check it out. The front and back door had been barred, it would take too long to make my way through them and I hadn't brought anything to breach them anyway. I should have invested into a pocket pickaxe for such an occasion. My only way in was through one of the windows. They were all in various stages of decay, the ones from the first floor were a no go, I hadn't brought a ladder either. One window from the ground floor had part of its frame sticking out, crossing the bottom part of the window, preventing me from passing through without scratching my clothes. The other window still had its frame and all but one glass intact. My hand could pass through the hole to unlock the window. There was some left over shard of glass surrounding the hole that was nothing I couldn't simply clear with my jacket. The jacket that I had left home. Damnit. There had to be a suitable replacement around somewhere. Some plastic sheet was laying around on the yard, it would do. With the sheet rolled around my hands and after making sure there were no other hazardous things on the way, I cleared the hole.

The window wasn't helping me at all. It was supposed to open bottom-up but Its mechanism jammed not even halfway through. There was no way I would fit my whole body vertically through the little opening I'd been able to make, I would have to go horizontally. I bent down and passed my head through the window frame. The landing site on the other side of the window was a mixing of mud, dust and old newspapers, it looked safe enough. I pushed myself inside, did a forward roll hoping to land on my feet but ended up on my butt instead. The whining had disappeared. I stood up, dusted myself off then checked my surroundings.

Once upon a time it had been a living room but there was no way anyone had done much living in this room in a long time, it had long since been looted. Dust was covering everything. A dining table missing two legs was resting upside down on the floor. The skeleton of a sofa, sitting on the far corner of the room, was keeping company to a small side table. A picture frame was flipped on top of it. I turned it over, the glass was shattered but its content was still here. A picture of a young bearded man embracing a black haired woman in front of a red and yellow van. I put it back on the table and went back to investigating where the sound might have come from. Beside the window where I had come in and the barred front door, the room had only one other entry point, a door leading to a now empty kitchen and a staircase on the brink of collapse that had one brought people to the second floor. It had surely enough strength left in it to carry me up there. The hazardous climb ended on a small corridor that led to three rooms. Two were wide open and also empty while the last one was closed with a door still intact. There was no lock on this door. The knob turned without any resistance.

The small room in front of me was lighted by an untouched window. One wooden cradle was set next to a small cupboard. When I set one foot into what had been meant to be a nursery, something manifested itself below the cupboard. I crouched down to check it out.

"Bongo? Is that you?"

Two glowing red dots appeared at a distance then started to grow and grow. Something was charging at me. Wanting to get out of the way, I fell backward and barely had time to notice a small form running through the door out of the room. A rodent of some sort, definitely not the cat I was looking for.

Bongo wasn't here either. Maybe he had been here earlier and was on his way back to the house by now. Our path had just not met. My back was covered in dust so I stood up and cleaned myself up. I was able to maneuver the broken staircase to make my way downstairs then walked to my previous entry point. I performed the same roll as I did earlier to get out of the house but this time I was more successful, landing crouching on my feet. The ground seemed darker than earlier. In fact the sky had darkened too. It was just the day going on, unbothered by the current event. Had I really spent that much time inside this house? I had to go back home. Except a police car was stationed on the other side of the front yard. That was when a bright white light nearly blinded me.

"Chloe Price?"

The light was gone and my eyes started to recuperate. An officer of the law had exited the car and was walking slowly towards me. I froze. How did he know my name? It didn't matter. It might have been a broken house, it was still private property. I wasn't supposed to be here. No one was allowed on these grounds. Perhaps I still had time to escape but where? Going back inside would require too much time, the fences on both sides of the yard were too high for me to climb over them. And my board was now resting on the grass behind the officer. I should have left it against the wall of the house instead. There was no escape, no way out. I had to accept my faith, I had broken the law, I was going to prison. I might as well identify myself.

"Yes?"

The man in uniform took a few more steps forward. His face was familiar. Officer Berry Anderson. A local patron of The Two Whales. He had always been nice with me when I stayed there. At least getting arrested by him meant nothing untoward would happen to me in the process. I relaxed a little. He was now standing in front of me, in one hand he had his flashlight pointing towards the ground on his side and the other was empty. Where was his handcuff? Strangely, he had a smile on his face. Was he always this happy when he was making an arrest? Was this the last face every criminal that stood before him ever saw before losing them freedom?

"Hey, Miss. What are you doing here?"

I could try one last lie, I could say I was just passing by… Who was I kidding, he probably had seen me exit through the window. I might as well say the truth and I didn't want to have more years added to my sentence for lying to him now.

"I'm looking for my cat."  
"And did you find it?"

Officer Berry wasn't smart but that wasn't the time to tell it to his face. I showed him my empty hands.

"No."  
"Well, your parents are looking all over for you. They're getting worried. If I were you, I would get back to them as soon as possible."

He was right, I hadn't said to Mum where I was going and the search had been unfruitful. It was time to go. I nodded.

"Let me give you a ride back home, okay?"

Wasn't he supposed to tell me the Miranda rights first? I guessed since he knew me, he was being nice and would give me the opportunity to go home first to see my parents before bringing me to the police station. I was sure I would see Bongo waiting for me there and he would be laughing his ass off at seeing me arrested. I would have to find a way to get back to him for that. Officer Berry was still looking at me with concern, he was probably waiting for an answer from me. He was acting like I had a choice in the matter.

"Okay."

While we made our way to the car I put my hands behind my back in preparation for the cuff. He opened the passenger door and waited. Was it for me?

"Shouldn't I go in the back instead?"  
"Like a common criminal? Of course not, darling. You're riding in the front with me."

I had mistaken the situation, I wasn't being arrested after all. I sat on the firm leather of the passenger seat and we rode on. Officer Berry started to whistle a tune I had never heard before.

A few minutes later, we turned a corner and the house was on sight. Dad was in the front yard, shooting something through the doorway and walking towards us. Mum showed up at his side a few seconds later. The officer stopped the car in front of the house and I exited the vehicle. My feet had barely time to hit the ground when Mum pulled me towards her and engulfed me into one of her bear hugs.

"Sweetie, where did you run off to?"  
"I was looking for Bongo..."  
"Oh, sweetie..."

Two hugs on the same day might have been a bit too much but Mum really needed this one, so I let it happen. My head wasn't completely pressed against her chest this time, I was able to peek over her shoulder. Dad had a few words with Officer Berry who had stayed in the car, then watched him drive off. He had now turned his attention to me. His face was clearly visible under the yard lights. His eyes were red and wet, tears were freely flowing down his cheeks. He looked truly miserable. His mouth opened and closed twice before any words came out of it.

"Kiddo... Bongo... He's... Bongo is gone, Chloe."

It finally clicked. No one was trying to pull a prank on me. Especially not Dad with the body language he was presently demonstrating. It was all true, Bongo, my best friend, my one true friend, was really gone. Tears were building up under my eyes. Dad's face was just a blur. It couldn't be. Bongo was my everything. He couldn't leave me like that. He might have been old but he was still in perfect health. It wasn't his time yet, it made no sense.

"No... Not Bongo. Anyone but him! Why did it have to be him?"  
"It was an accident, kiddo. We can't control these things."  
"Bongo never did anything wrong. It's totally unfair."

Something was boiling inside of me and I had to let it out. Mum was trying to comfort me but it didn't feel right. At this moment, feeling comfortable seemed totally wrong and disrespectful. I broke from Mum's embrace and took a step back. Someone was responsible for this, I would find out who and made him or her pay for it. I was near the site of the crime, I had to investigate. I started to walk toward the bumped car. Mum had told me a red car had driven by. She might have known more.

"Mum? What did you see?"  
"I didn't see much, sweetie."

Of course, she hadn't. She never paid much attention to Bongo. She’d never liked him in the first place. I bet that deep inside she was happy he was gone. But what about Dad? He cared and had already had a look at the scene. I turned to him. He must have guessed my question.

"Do you really want to know, kiddo?"  
"Yes!"  
"Let's see. Bongo was near our car while we were unloading the groceries, he had slipped through my legs a few seconds earlier. A red car barged in on the street at full speed, driving erratically. I don't know what got into him but one moment Bongo was near us and the next he was in front of the car..."

That was unbelievable. Dad had been there, he had seen the accident happen but he hadn’t done anything to prevent it. It was all his fault.

"You saw Bongo in front of a moving car and you didn't try to get him out of the way?"  
"It went so fast, kiddo. No one could have done anything about it."

Dad looked hurt by my comment. He loved Bongo, he had never done him wrong. There was no reason for him to let it happen on purpose. He wasn't the one to blame for this situation. The red car. It had its role in this. I had to focus on that.

"What do we know about the car?"  
"The car?"  
"Yes. The one that..."

Something made me stop in my tracks. My foot was on the blood stain. It was still clearly visible on the road and still very sticky. A single, stupid car had wrecked my whole world, dissolving a friendship of a lifetime in an instant. Was the car to blame? Was there a malfunction with the engine or a faulty tire that had made it swerve this way? Or was the fault on the one who had driven it? Did the driver run over Bongo on purpose or were they too busy speeding into a residential area to bother looking ahead and they hadn’t seen him at all?

"I don't know anyone in our neighborhood that drives this kind of car, kiddo."  
"Tomorrow, I'll ask around at the Two Whales if people have ever seen it before."

It was too much. Mum and Dad were to blame. The other neighbors that were present at the accident and preferred to stand by and watch it happen instead of doing anything about it, they were all to blame. The car and its driver were to blame as well. But that wasn't it, there was something else. I hadn't seen him near our car at the time. I should have. I should have paid more attention. I was the one that let him go out instead of keeping him in my room. If Bongo hadn't been on the street at this particular moment, the car wouldn't have been able to hit him. If Bongo had stayed with me or if he was still in my room, sitting on my lap as he always does, this whole thing would never have happened. He had been distracted the whole time since I had been back from the travel agency. If I hadn't spent my time perusing those stupid brochures but instead paying more attention to him… If I hadn't made the shark nearly eat his character, he wouldn't have tried to skip our session. I could have prevented it. I was the real culprit. I was the only one to blame.

My legs couldn't stand upright anymore. I let them go and dropped on my knees while hiding my face into my hands.

"I did this to him. It's all my fault."  
"No, no, kiddo. It's not your fault. It was an accident."  
"I should have stopped him. I should have been there with him. I let him down."

A warm hand was holding me by the shoulder. I moved my hands long enough to see Dad crouching down next to me.

"There was nothing anyone could have done. It was his time to go."  
"It's unfair."  
"Life is not always fair. The best we can do is enjoy it while it lasts."  
"Bongo didn't deserve to end like this…"  
"No, he didn't. He was the best of us. We were lucky to have him in our life and we will cherish the memories of the time we spent with him forever."  
"Where is he now?"  
"You don't want to look at him, kiddo."  
"No I… What will happen to him now?"  
"I dug a hole in the backyard while you were gone. It's a quiet place near the fence, he would have liked it."

My anger dissipated. What was done was done. There was nothing I could do about it now. I just had to soldier on and continue living without him.

"I guess it's fine."

"Come on, kiddo. I'll show you."

We walked together into the house, through the living room and into the backyard. A shoe box was set on top of a mound of dirt, next to a newly dug up hole. Dad had been right, it was the perfect spot for Bongo, right next to one of my old science projects, a plant we had to grow in class that Bongo at one time tried to eat. Dad picked up the box and set it delicately into the hole. When the deed was done, he stood next to me, fetched something from his pocket and handed it to me. A band of leather with a green linen sewn on the center of it, attached to a wooden plate with the name Bongo engraved onto it. It had been a long time since I had given that much attention to his handmade collar.

"If you want to put it next to him."

I looked at the band once more, the last proof that my friend had been here. The feel of the collar in my hand was right. Somehow putting it on the ground didn't seem the proper thing to do. I didn't want to let it go, just yet.

"I'll hold on to that for now."  
"As you wish, kiddo. Will you do us the honor?"  


I grabbed a handful of dirt and dropped it on the box. Dad took the shovel and started to put the dirt back in the hole. I would have to find a plate or a stone to mark the grave. Once the hole was covered up, Dad put the shovel back into the shed and headed home. I stayed here a little longer, here where my friend would rest forever.

I had many things planned for this weekend but burying my best friend hadn't been one of them. Most of these plans were rendered obsolete since they had involved Bongo. I might be able to recover at least one of them. I was supposed to have a session with my online friends. I had told them I was going on a short break and it had been hours. They might be wondering what happened. I had to log back on to inform them.

My computer chair was strangely cold. My finger was ready to hit the power bottom of the computer case but it wasn't needed. The power lid indicated it was already on. I wasn't supposed to be away for so long, the computer had stayed on all this time. A nudge of the mouse woke up the screen. The OTP wasn't on, I must have closed it before leaving the room. A double click started the application again.

While waiting for it to load, I couldn't help myself from looking down. There was an empty space on my lap that would never be filled again. Despite the summer weather, my legs were cold without my furry friend to warm them up. The software had finally finished to start. Dismissing the welcome message and logging on took a second and I was automatically redirected in the #Arrrcardia room. My heart tightened for a second. The @PogoThePirate bot was still sitting there. Of course it hadn't automatically disappeared. But it would never really speak again with the words of my favorite paranoid pirate. My stomach was acting up, I was starting to get sick. Three private message windows were blinking at the top of the screen. I started with the one from OneEyePete. He had been wondering where I was. The other messages read the same. They had all been worried about me. The proper thing to do was to reply to them.

I had trouble typing anything on the keyboard. Seeing the words on the screen made it all too real. He was really gone. It wasn't just a dream. He wasn't on a break and would be back later. He was gone and it was forever. Not the kind of forever one thinks of as a kid when on a car trip that's taking too long. No the kind of forever that really never ends. My eyes were getting blurry once more. Still on OneEyePete's private message window, I let my fingers find the keys on their own and type a quick message.

"I had a personal emergency"

My mouse was heavier than usual, moving slowly towards the submit button. I could have pressed enter but my fingers didn't want to touch the keyboard anymore. After that last click I was done with computers for the day. OneEyePete would have to transfer the message to the others. I didn't even bother closing the application. My finger hit the power button then I went to my bed. My head fell first on the mattress. I moved up and hugged the pillows. Said pillows were starting to get pretty wet by my tears but I didn't care. All I wanted was to sleep. To try and escape this horrible world that had taken my friend away. I cried and cried, all the water in my body was pouring out of my eyes. I was weakened. After hours and hours of pouring down, I was totally exhausted. My finally drying eyes closed and I fell asleep.

* * *

Something caressing my cheek awoke me. It wasn't fur. I would probably never be woken with a furry butt in my face again. Mum was sitting on the bed, her voice was soft and gentle.

"Hey sweetie. You should eat something. Do you feel like coming down with me for dinner?"

I didn't feel like anything anymore. Why not try to eat? I wasn't wearing my pajamas so I simply got up and followed Mum downstairs.

I barely participated in the dinner conversation this evening. My parents were fine filling the awkward silence on their own. All questions addressed towards me were answered by single-word responses. Something was wrong with my dinner plate. The ratio of spaghetti to meatballs was definitely off. My heart pinched when the reason came up. I would usually send a ball of two Bongo's way while no one was looking. Dad offered to clean the dishes so I went directly upstairs.

An eerie continuous sound rang into my ears as I entered the bathroom. I spent a good five minutes looking for its source. It came from the water heater. For the first time in a long while, I was taking a shower alone. I had gotten used to having my furry friend with me in the bathroom. He would never go inside the bathtub of course, but was always standing on the counter by the sink. We would usually talk the whole time, fomenting plans for the future where I would become a renowned scientist or engineer. Or we would practice singing in case my first plans didn't pan out and we would have to implement our back-up one: forming a band. We had decided that I would be on the guitar while Bongo would be on the drum and both would be lead singers. But there was no song in the bathroom now. Only the annoying buzzing of the water heater.

Once clean, it was time to go back to bed. My big empty bed. It welcomed me with opened arms. My body curled up in the fetal position and my eyes closed. I wanted tomorrow to be a better day but how could that be possible without Bongo at my side?

* * *

My legs were moving fast. My feet, running over rocks, trying not to tumble into anything. The sky above me was dark and strangely metallic. The space around me was eerily empty without only four tall features standing at equal distance from one another. They looked like black trees without branches. It was very intriguing. I had to get a closer look. The surface of the tree wasn't as hard as expected. My fingers were changing its form, like one would do to a rubber band. I quickly removed my hand and took a step back. They weren't trees, their barks would never have this texture. A gigantic roar resounded behind me. Two of these non-trees, while keeping the same distance between one another, were moving towards me. If I didn't move, one of these things would hit me. They might have an malleable surface, the result would certainly not be pretty. But there was a problem. I couldn't move. Fear paralyzed me. I stood still, glaring at the object of my imminent demise, like a reindeer in the headlight. A single word broke me out of my static state. Pronounced by a familiar voice. One I thought I wouldn't ever hear again.

"Run."

My legs were working once more. I rolled on the side just in time to avoid the impact. I looked around for the source of the voice. A shadowy figure was standing in the distance. I closed the distance with it. Once a few feet from my objective I found myself in my bedroom, lying in bed, my blanket crawled up at my feet, alone once again. All I wanted to do at this instance was to go back to sleep. It had been a weird dream but it didn’t matter. Bongo wasn't entirely gone. He had been in my dream and that was the place where I could be with him. I had to go back. I closed my eyes and tried to force myself to fall asleep. It took its time but sleep finally came and I ended up once more in the strange empty space with the non-trees. They were moving around at great speed this time. Something brushed the side of my leg but there was nothing there but a shadow.

"Bongo?"

The shadow took a couple of steps back, paused for a few seconds and started to run. I tried to keep pace but had trouble seeing the proper path in the dim light.

"Bongo, wait! You're going too fast, I can't keep up!"

The shadow slowed down but kept on running. It allowed me to catch up to it. We ran for what seemed an eternity. I was at peace. Running side by side with this shadow. It was like I was with my best friend once more.

* * *

The following week was spent in bed. I was happy when I was able to fall asleep and go back to the strange place. Running around with my best friend. When I wasn't dreaming that was another story. Getting up or doing anything that didn't involve my bed weren't attractive things to me anymore. I tried changing my mind by reading books but the words on the pages always ended up reminding me of a better time with my furry friend. I only got up when I absolutely had to. For nature calls or when Mum forced me to eat. Those meals were spent in silence. I didn't have the heart for conversation anymore. All I could think about was going back to sleep where my friend was waiting for me.

* * *

I was running once more with the shadow at my side but the atmosphere had changed. The light was dimmer and there were more non-trees roaming around than usual. For the first time in a long while, the shadow spoke up.

"Chloe, it's time."  
"Time for what?"  
"To move on."  
"What? No!"  
"You can't go on like this. You have to let me go."  
"I don't want to."  
"Chloe, be strong."  
"I'm not strong enough…"  
"Yes, you are."  
"I need you!"  
"I'll always be here for you. But you can't come back here."  
"I love you, Bongo."  
"I love you too. Now leave."

The shadow ran faster than ever and disappeared in the distance. Unwilling to let go, I was about to run after him when I found myself back into my bed. I immediately closed my eyes and tried to go back but the unusual amount of light in my room made it impossible.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the wind was bringing the calm and hot temperatures of summer. All of this bothered me greatly. I got up and closed the blinds and the window. Someone had sneaked into my room while I was sleeping and opened the window. I lied back into bed, under my blanket. I stared at the ceiling. The day before that, while my eyes wouldn't stay closed, I had spotted some weird marks. Where could they have come from? No one was walking up there and there wasn't much activity in the attic either. The marks might have been there all along, from before we had bought the house. Had they changed? One of the marks looked larger than it was the previous night. My thoughts were interrupted by the door slamming open and Mum barging in.

"It's two PM, Chloe. I hope you're not still in bed."

Her hope was futile, she could clearly see where I was. But she was acting like I wasn't even here. She went to the bed and started undoing it. She got hold of the blankets and pulled them towards her. I grabbed on to the bottom one while Mum retrieved the top one. She brought it to her nose, sniffed it and made a disgusted face. She bent down and sniffed at my mattress as well.

"Your bedsheets smell gross, you should have changed them days ago!"

She undid the corner of the sheets and was about to remove them from under me. I quickly rolled out of bed before she would throw me out of it.

"Mum!"  
"Oh, she speaks now. Hello daughter. How are you feeling today?"  
"To be frank, I'm feeling…"

Mum didn't let me finish my sentence.

"Greats, it's good to know you're feeling better. Or else we would have to bring you to the hospital for a checkup. It's been a week since the accident. Your father and I gave you space, hoping you would come out of it on your own but it doesn't seem to work. So we are trying a new strategy."

The queen of the household balled up the drapes and threw them next to the blanket, at the feet of my chamber door.

"Tomorrow you will be going back to school. To a new school. High school. You worked hard… No. We all worked hard for you to get there. Too hard to let you throw it all away. So you will be presentable, on your best behavior for the first day and the days that follow."

The second blanket joined the first one. Mum was now working on removing the pillows from their cases.

"For that to happen, you can't stay cooked up in your room. You need some vitamin D, you look like you are coming straight from a black and white picture."

Mum threw the pillow cases with the rest and came close to me.

"And you smell as bad as your bedsheets. When was your last shower?"

Before Mum could throw me with the dirty laundry, I took a step back, crossed over my bed and went to my closet.

"Okay Mum, I get it. I'll go take a bath now."

I took a fresh pair of jeans and the first t-shirt I could locate and headed towards the exit.

"And after that, I want you outside of this house. A little sun will do you good. I don't want to see you back inside before sundown, understood?"  
"Sure, Mum."

Mum might have been a bit aggressive in her method but she was also right. I had been moping around for too long and I couldn't allow this to continue. I couldn't blow my first day at school. Bongo wouldn't have wanted that. He and Mum were right. I had to really wake up and get my shit together. There was only one way to do that. Instead of a bath, I opted for a cold shower.

I stepped out of the bathroom with my fresh set of clothes on, went back to my bedroom only to grab my skateboard and headed downstairs. A sandwich and an apple were waiting for me on the kitchen counter. I grabbed my breakfast/lunch and left the house. I had to cover my eyes for a few seconds to gradually let them adapt to the sun. A week without sunlight hadn't done me any good. I put my board down and jumped on it. I didn't have the faintest clues as to where to go. So I let the wind decide where to start. The breeze went left so I did as well. I just followed the road after that.

This path was leading me to the lighthouse. That was fine. I hadn't been up there in ages. With the wind now blowing on my face and my board under my feet, I was starting to get better. I would be better, I would be alright. I would go to the lighthouse and find a decent enough stone to make a gravestone out of for Bongo. If I couldn't find one there, I had plenty of time to go to the beach and find one there instead. I would be fine. School would start and I would be busy with that. A new school meant a new set of people. I would surely find some interesting person in the lot.

Bongo would have wanted me to find new friends. I had my online friends but real world friends were important too. I understood that now. I might have recovered faster if there had been someone else with me. My parents had done their best to comfort me but Dad had to go back to work and so did Mum. They couldn't have been available twenty-four seven.

But even if I didn't find anyone interesting at my new school, it didn't matter. I was a strong woman. I could do anything if I put my mind to it. I would have preferred to have my best friend at my side when I achieved my goals but I could still dedicate my success to him. He would always be with me anyway, in my heart.


	17. Epilogue - The Flower Duet

I've been sitting at this desk for hours, trying to get through this damned math homework for class on the next day. My brain was on overload and a headache was starting to show up. I was really not a fan of this subject. The banging coming from outside wasn't helping either. Dad was working on something in the shed but he was going at it so violently that it could be heard all the way here. Of course, I could have solved this problem by closing the window but fall was here and this was probably one of the last sunny days we would get this year, so I was taking advantage of it as much as I could. Massaging my temple, hoping to alleviate the pain, wasn't producing any result. Ten more seconds of this and I would have gone down to the shed to tell Dad to stop making all this racket. As if he had read my mind, the noise finally stopped. One pain ended, another one started. I had no more good reason to not work on my Math homework anymore. Pencil in hand, I went back at it. I was putting the final zero on my exercise sheet when Dad erupted into my room.

"Hey, kiddo. Oh, still working on your homework?"  
"Actually, I'm all done!"  
"Excellent, how do you feel about ice cream?"  
"Well, I feel it's an underused dessert outside of summer, its coldness shouldn't prevent us from serving it all year round. And speaking of summer, after what happened last month, I feel we shouldn't leave ice cream cones on top of books for too long or anywhere else from now on."  
"Good points, good points… but how do you feel about going into town to eat some?"  
"Like right now?"  
"If you don't have any other plans…"  
"Let me check my schedule…"

I placed my hands side by side, palms up, in front of me. I made as if I was turning a few invisible pages then I brought the palm of my hands together.

"Nothing. My afternoon is clear."  
"Let's go then! First one in the car gets to drive!"

Dad turned around and rushed out of the room. That was a bit unfair, I was still on my chair while he was probably already halfway through the hallway. My pen dropped on the desk while I ran out of the room, following Dad as fast as I could to the garage. It wasn't a real challenge anyway because he would never let me drive anyway. He had barely started teaching me how to handle the car. But if we were going to the usual ice cream shop, maybe we could get some more practice driving in the parking lot.

* * *

My legs had a growth spur recently. Mum said that would probably not be the only one but I still was shorter than Dad. That was his advantage but I had youth in my favor. I just had to put all my strength into my sprint and I could have surely caught up to Dad. He had a big head start but I could still give it a shot. My heart rate must have been over two hundred when I finally reached the car. My hands hit the hood and rested there a few seconds, while I tried to catch my breath. Of course, Dad was already sitting in front of the wheel, watching me with a big grin on his face. One day I would catch up to him. Once my heart rate had gone back down to a reasonable amount, I jumped through the passenger's door that Dad had kindly opened up for me a minute earlier and I settled on the front seat. My jeans rubbed on the blanket covering the leather seat. It produced a satisfying squishing sound. That sound was music to my ears. My seatbelt locked with a familiar click and I was ready to go. Dad had had plenty of time to do his check up while waiting for me but he wasn't done yet. He was taking its sweet time, readjusting the front mirror. As if anyone had dared touching it while he wasn't around. My legs didn't feel like being cramped up under the seat. I extended them forward and set both feet on the dashboard in front of me. There was a time when my legs could barely reach the glove compartment but now I had to bend them a little or I would put my feet right through the windshield. This way my feet could have a nice change of view. It was the view of the garage but still better than the dark and boring floor. It didn't last very long though.

"Feet off the dashboard, young lady!"  
"Sorry Dad!"

Dad was finally ready. My feet went back on the car floor's mat as the engine roared into life. The garage's door opened and left us out. The car advanced for a few meters until it reached the junction of the driveway and the main road and stopped there.

"So, kiddo, where are we going this time?"

The choice had been obvious to me but not to Dad apparently. We were going for ice cream so there wasn't much choice available in Arcadia Bay. The all-new-and-expensive multi purpose frozen dessert machine had broken down a week ago at the Two Whales and the manager hadn't yet found the time to fix it and since the hot season was over he wasn't in any hurry to do so anyway. That was one option gone. An ice cream truck had been circling the residential area all summer but it hadn't made the best impression the last time we tried it. The vendor had the most disgusting hands I had ever seen. He probably cleaned his nose without a tissue or something. And he didn’t use any gloves either. Watching him handle the cone like that had made me lose my appetite for ice cream. Mum had noticed too and swore never to go back there. There was a small vendor with quality products squeezed between Walmart and the car dealership but that was half an hour's drive away and Dad would probably not be up for that long of a drive just for ice cream. We only went there on our way or from the grocery store anyway. In the end there was only one proper option left.

"We could go to the Ice Palace again?"  
"How about we try the new place downtown? I heard they are serving some new flavors of frozen yoghurt there…"  
"Downtown? Nah, I'd prefer we go to the Ice Palace. At least we are sure of the quality of the product we will be getting there."  
"Don't you want to try something new? Let your adventurous side shine a little!"  
"Not today, I already know what I'll be getting."  
"Let me guess… a double scoop of Macadamia nuts."  
"Exactly, you know me well."

It wasn't like I was always ordering the same flavor. I had tried a few others from time to time. But nothing compared to my favorite one. My taste buds were already salivating just thinking about it. Soon my lips would be hitting this wonderful mix of textures, the cold and sweetness of the ice cream with the crispy and deliciousness of the nuts. Mum and Dad had always been satisfied with their purchases so he didn't really have a good reason to object to going.

"I hope so! Ice Palace it is then. I guess I'll try the new place on my own another day."

Dad made the car turn left and we were on the main road. Ah yes, the road. I loved spending time on the road with Dad. The humming of the car, its slow and steady rhythmic movement and the blurry view of the landscape passing in front of my side window had always made me incredibly comfortable. At peace. It almost made me forget there was a life outside of this cozy metal box.

My moment of peace was interrupted when my eyes lingered a bit too much on the dashboard. The scarf that was usually spread across it and hanging a little over the glove compartment was missing. Had Dad removed the scarf on purpose? Thankfully, moving my feet around solved the mystery quickly. It had simply fallen over. I bent down to retrieve it from the dirty floor. Well the floor wasn't that dirty but I had probably stepped on it without realizing it. This scarf brought back some memories. It was one of the few items that had always been in the car. It must have been one of Mum's at first. I have some vague mental picture as a baby, stuck into my car seat in the back of the car and only catching glances of Mum warming up her hands in this very same scarf. Things had changed during our first car trip with Bongo. He had chosen this scarf as his resting spot, curling up on it and not moving until we all had to get out. Since then Mum hadn't touched the scarf, leaving it entirely for the beast as she had liked to call him from time to time.

I brought the scarf to my nose and took a good whiff. It smelled wonderful, the essence of Bongo was still all over it. But it wasn't like the scarf hadn't been washed in a while, it wasn't sticky or anything but it still had a few cat hair here and there. That was one of the last items around that smelled strongly of him. Keeping the scarf for myself and bringing it home had crossed my mind for a second but Mum would probably find it in my room and wash it again and it would lose all its appeal. No, the scarf was in its rightful place in the car. I spread it once more on the dashboard.

The car was slowing down. A fire truck was parked in the middle of the street, blocking access to the road. Some people were gathered around it but nothing else interesting was happening. At least from where we could see. The truck was probably blocking the main event.

"Looks like we will have to use a detour."

Dad made a U-turn then engaged into a perpendicular street. I could have swore we’d never taken this path before. Yes, this street had probably always been there but I had never had the opportunity of taking it. Or had I? Something seemed familiar about it nonetheless. My confusion must have been all over my face because Dad noticed it right away.

"Do you remember this road, kiddo?"  
"I'm not sure…"  
"We took it once, a long time ago. To get an old friend."

We passed slowly in front of a tall residential building still in construction. Strangely a few barks of angry dogs resurfaced from the back of my mind.

"That's where we got Bongo!"  
"Exactly!"

We had gotten him from a pet shop, this building didn't look like that any more.

"What happened to the shop?"  
"We talked about it a few times…"  
"If you did, I never was around when you did. I would remember it otherwise."  
"The owners had to close the shop and sold the lot to the city a few months after we visited."  
"Was it because of something we did?"

That was a stupid notion but I couldn't help myself, I had to blur it out. At least it made Dad laugh.

"Of course not, kiddo. From the information we gathered, they had some hygiene problems. They weren't able to maintain the place as clean as they had hoped. There was a certain smell that started to invade the whole neighborhood. The locals weren't happy with their business and the people that were frequenting the place. So they petitioned the city to have it removed. The city investigated the shop and declared it a health hazard and they forced the owners to close it down. I heard they moved back to Portland."  
"That's why we never went back there."  
"Well, you weren't fond of the dogs there. That was the main reason not to bring you back there. And, to be fair, the price they were asking for the cat food was so exorbitant we got our supply elsewhere. But at least they were nice people. We might try to visit them if we ever have a chance to visit Portland."  
"Sure, unless they still have all their mean dogs."  
"Come on, Chloe. You're all grown up now. I'm sure you won't find them so intimidating anymore."  
"If you say so."

Those dogs had really scared me back then to the point I am still a bit uneasy around unknown dogs to this day.

We went back to a comfortable silence. Trying to find something to occupy my hands, I opened the glove compartment and found the Paris traveling brochures I had given to Mum and Dad a few weeks prior. They were in the same state as when I handed them over. As if they had been tossed into the compartment never to be touched again. My parents had probably forgotten all about them.

"Excited for our big winter vacation?"

While keeping his attention to the road ahead, Dad was glancing at me and the content of my hands. Being excited about our trip to Paris was an understatement. My first big voyage outside of the country, outside of the state to be honest. Just thinking about it brought back all the wonderful things we would be visiting there.

"It's gonna be epic! I can't wait. We have to take the stairs of the Eiffel Tower, no way we go on the elevator! And we absolutely have to visit every room of the Versailles château. Can you imagine ever living in a real life castle?"  
"I'm not sure I would like it. Think about the extra hours we would have to spend on cleaning the whole place. And that must cost a fortune in AC during the summer."  
"You always look at things in a practical way. You need to let yourself dream a little, Dad!"  
"I guess if I had to live in the middle ages in Europe, I would rather be born one of the people that got to live in a castle rather than in a farm house in the country."  
"That's the spirit!"

I was going through the brochures and, despite the fact that I had already seen them all before, they were as interesting as the first time I had. To think, in a few short months, I would be seeing all this for real. This next brochure was a bit crumple and missing one corner. I had read it the most. Dad had probably not looked at it so he had to be informed.

"Oh, oh! And we have to see the Marie Curie museum. They trace out her whole life, it will be fascinating, you will see."  
"Yes. Don't worry, kiddo. We won't miss it. I saw the brochure or what's left of it. It looked interesting."

So he had had a look at a few of them after all. Good to know. But perhaps he had missed this next one.

"Oh, and there will be the Champ de Mars and the Arc de Triomphe and so much more! I hope we get to see everything I've planned."  
"I doubt that…"

The last brochure of the pile was one of the rare garden ones that had survived the great purge.

"I guess we could skip some of the gardens. Mum will be pissed if we do though."  
"Even if we skipped them, we wouldn't be able to see everything. Even if we had reserved twice as many days for the trip, we wouldn't be able to visit even a tenth of what you proposed. You will have to trim your list down a bit more, I'm afraid. Perhaps in the future we will plan other trips and then we will see the rest. Though I'm not sure anyone would see everything in a lifetime. Paris is a big city after all."  
"Aw… as long as we get to see the essential, it will do I guess for now. Has your French improved since I gave you the CD?"

I had found a magazine at a local vendor that was offering French lessons on a monthly basis. The first lesson included in the magazine was at the low price of one dollar so it was a good opportunity to train even if we didn't plan on getting the rest of the lessons. I had bought two copies and had given one to my parents to train with.

"Has my… I haven't had any time to practice so far, so I don’t think it has improved that much. How about yours?"  
"Je ne parle pas Fran-say."  
"Nice. Your accent sounds very French but what does it mean?"

There was no way he didn't already know this one. I might as well play along.

"I don't know…"  
"What do you mean you don't know?!"  
"I'm kidding! It means I don't speak French, it's the first sentence the audiobook teaches us."  
"Sweet. Any other gems to share?"  
"Another one of the first sentences the book says is… wait a minute…"  
"That doesn't sound French."  
"That's not the sentence! Wait… I've got it I think. It's something like: La vache joue au ballon dans le pr-ay."  
"I'm not an expert in French but I think you got something mixed up there."  
"Wait, no! La vache mange dans le pr-ay! It's the boy that's supposed to joue au ballon!"  
"That sounds more logical indeed."  
"Anyway the audiobook starts us with these supposedly simple sentences but they are neither simple nor useful. I don't see myself talking about balls and cows during a normal conversation in Paris!"  
"Well, you have to start somewhere kiddo. I bet you will find a use for the first one at least."  
"The magazine provides a list of a hundred words most used by tourists, but it's hard to find a proper use for them when you are lacking the verbs that are supposed to accompany them. I thought that learning a new language would be easy… Boy was I wrong!"  
"Don't worry about that, you don't have to be fluent in French to enjoy your time in Paris. I heard they know a bit of English over there."  
"It would have been nice to at least be able to converse a little bit with the natives in their own language but learning from scratch is a time-consuming process and it's hard to find the time with school and everything…"  
"Speaking of school, how is it going?"  
"Argh…"  
"That well, huh?"

Dad had employed a sarcastic tone while maintaining a big smile on his face but it was just a façade. Perhaps he had hoped to keep the good mood going by broaching an easy subject. School had always been a source of happiness in the past, perhaps he hadn't yet discovered the recent changes.

I used to love school. The calm and relaxing atmosphere of the institution and its never-ending chances of new discoveries. But since I had started at Blackwell Academy, things hadn't gone my way.

"It's… I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's actually hard! Middle school didn't prepare us for that. At all!"  
"Come on, kiddo. It can't be that terrible. With this big brain of yours it should be a breeze."  
"Do you remember how hard I had to work to catch up for the SSAT test?"  
"Huh-uh."  
"Well, it feels like I have to work as hard as that but all the time. Especially if I want to keep my perfect scores. It's like I barely have a moment to myself anymore."  
"I kind of guessed that. Seeing you glued to your desk all day every day. That's why an ice cream road trip was in order."  
"Thank you for that. I think if I hadn't taken a break, my brain would have exploded."  
"And no one would want that. Think about the mess that would have made! I would have had to clean all the brain cells off your chamber walls!"

A funny picture popped into my brain. Dad wearing his "Please kiss the chef" apron, scalpel in hand, scraping the remains of my cerebral cortex off the walls. It switched to a more realistic vision. Dad, head first in the toilet bowl, emptying his last meal. He would be too squeamish to come near the scene of the accident and would probably leave the cleaning job to Mum instead.

"Dad… Admit that you would have dreaded the cleaning more than the loss of your daughter!"

The car was stopped at a red light by now. Dad took the opportunity to turn towards me. He suddenly had his serious face on.

"Never, kiddo. You're the sun and the moon to me. I know you know we are just kidding but, seriously, you must never think that. You are always my first priority. I wouldn't know what to do if I ever lost you."  
"Dad! You're spoiling the mood. I'm sure my brain wouldn't literally explode anyway. It was feeling more like the start of a headache. Don't worry, you won't be losing me anytime soon."  
"You say that but pretty soon you will grow tired of us and won't want to have anything to do with us. Then you will move out and…"  
"Wow, Dad. Where is all this coming from?"

Dad slowly bumped his head on the wheel and let it rest there for a second. The light had turned green so I gently elbowed him. He lifted his head and started to drive again. He was still sporting a somber face. There was something more behind his mood swing.

"Sorry, kiddo. My colleague, Jim. His daughter Rebecca just left the house with her new boyfriend. She's barely eighteen and apparently won't speak to him anymore. I just… I don't want this to happen to us."

"Come on, Dad. I'm barely thirteen. Eighteen is like forever away from now. And I'm sure we don't have the same relationship that your colleague has with his daughter. I don't ever see myself growing away from you. You're too awesome of a dad for that to happen!"  
"You're awesome too, kiddo."

I hated seeing Dad in this way. I unlocked my seatbelt and got close to him in the hope of providing him with a hug. He had guessed my intention because he was freeing up his right arm. I accepted the invitation and snuggled against him, his arm closing back around my shoulders. We stayed like this, cozied up against one another for a good minute until the pressure of his arms lessened.

"Not that I don't like this, kiddo, but you better go back to your seat and buckle up."  
"Okay, Dad."

I pressed my head one last time against Dad's chest then unlocked from his embrace. I went back to my original sitting position and locked the seatbelt once more. The change of temperature was noticeable once I was far away from the warmth of Dad's body. The absence of heat was accentuated by the cold breeze that was running through the car. Both our windows were still open and were letting the cold wind in. Summer was really over. Despite the cold settling in, I didn't use the automatic window button but opted for the manual crank to close the window on my side. Watching the window gradually close by my own effort was more satisfying than it being done by a mechanical system with no input other than the effortless press of a little button. And I was getting a little arm exercise at the same time. No one can say I can’t multitask. Dad had noticed the cold temperature and had closed his window as well. But the cold air had remained, and I couldn't help but roll my arms around myself to try and keep warm.

"Dad, it feels like we are in the heat of winter in here."  
"Long gone are our summer days, huh?"  
"They sure are! I mean I love to watch the dance of the leaves that fall brings but I sure as hell could do without the drop in temperatures that comes along."  
"Language, Chloe. Take my jacket, it's on the backseat. That should warm you up nicely."

Stupid short arms! I had to unbuckle my seat belt once again just to get Dad's jacket. Why did he have to put it so far away? He could have put it on the back of his seat. The hardest part was squeezing between the front seats without touching the gear stick. But it was all worth it. I went back to my seat, comfortably snuggling inside Dad's jacket. Everything was much better now. Or nearly everything. There was a solid metallic thingy poking my lower back. Moving a little on my seat made it slide on my side, pressing against my rib cage. It was ruining the whole experience and it was coming from the back pocket. I had to remove it right away. I reached on my side and grabbed the irritating object: it was just a watch. No. Not just a watch. It was the ancient watch Dad had shown me a few months prior.

The mechanical wonder looked cold but was feeling anything but that in my hand. For lack of anything better to do at this moment, I opened it up to admire its clockwork once again. It was still mesmerizing. Dad had said it was a time machine back then. It was clearly a joke but what if it had a little bit of truth behind it? How exciting would it be if it was all true? The temptation to see if it was real was strong. I just had to put the fingers in the right place. Starting with the big finger. As soon as my finger tip landed on the clock's finger, my right hand started vibrating. That was weird. Was that supposed to happen? Was it part of the time traveling process? I moved back my finger and my right hand vibrated once more. It was definitely coming from something else. That wasn't the clock's doing. It was coming from Dad's jacket. His cellphone was still in his side pocket. I love the fact that he used his old wedding picture as his phone background. And that was Mum calling. He had her registered as "my queen". So typical.

"Looks like Mum is trying to reach you."  
"I have nowhere to stop for now. Could you answer the phone for me please?"

I pressed the proper button and glued the phone to my ear, waiting for Mum to speak first.

"Hello? Sweetheart?"  
"Hey Mum!"  
"Oh, hi Chloe. Why are you on your father's phone?"  
"He's busy driving."  
"Put her on speaker phone, please."  
"That's why nobody answered on the landline."  
"Mum, wait a second."

I pressed the speaker icon and set the phone on the dashboard between Dad and I. I let him take the lead.

"Hey, honey!"  
"Hey you! Could you be a dear and come pick me up? I went to the grocery store after work and now I have my hands full."

Oh ho. That sounded like a change of plan. I didn't like changes of plan. I really wanted to get some ice cream but Mum usually had her way so we were probably going to get her instead. Well, it wasn't a done deal yet. I still had some tricks up my sleeves that might make him reconsider. It was time to deploy my secret weapon. I wetted my eyes with a few forced tears and fixed Dad with my round doey eyes. He looked at me for two seconds and responded to Mum's request with a little smirk on his face. But was it a good smirk or a bad one?

"Oh, I didn't know you had to get groceries."  
"We were out of sugar and flour."  
"Of course I'll come pick you up. In fact, the whole family is coming as well."

He winked at me. Our family was reduced back to just Dad, Mum and me so that was his weird way of saying I was coming along. I rolled my eyes at him, trying to restrain myself from smiling too much. I couldn't let him get away with this one.

"And we will all go get some ice cream afterward. Is that okay with you, honey?"

Yes! The ice cream plan hadn't fallen through after all.

"Isn't it a bit too cold outside for ice cream?"  
"It's never too cold for ice cream, honey."  
"Alright, I will be waiting for you in front of the store. Don't make me wait too long."

Dad was looking around, probably trying to find out exactly where he was and how to change his route.

"We are about fifteen minutes away. Be there shortly. Love you…"  
"Love you both!"

I hung up and put the phone back into the jacket.

"You could have answered her, you know?"  
"Oops… sorry."  
"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to her when we see her."  
"Sure thing, Dad."  
"Well, looks like we will be taking a little detour, the Ice Palace will have to wait."

With Mum joining the road trip there was no chance I would get any driving practice. The queen of the household had always been a fervent opponent of seeing me behind the wheel of a car before my sixteenth birthday. Supervised practice or not. I had been around a car before I could even walk. I could handle myself. What was she really afraid of?

"Why the long face all of the sudden, kiddo? Is it because of the unexpected delay?"  
"That's not it… I was… I was hoping you would let me practice behind the wheel a little after the ice cream that's all. But with Mum coming with us and you know how she feels about this subject… yeah, I guess I can forget about it."  
"I'm afraid it's going to be hard today indeed. But we could try it next weekend, if you're up for it? I'll come up with a good excuse to take you out on a drive without her this time and we will practice then. How about that?"  
"You say that but come Saturday you will have forgotten all about it."  
"I'm sure you will find a way to remind me."  
"Hmmm. Let's see. I think I got it."

The glove compartment of this car was a treasure trove. It always had everything one needed if one had the patience to sift through it. But this time it took me only a few seconds to locate what I wanted. A small pile of yellow sticky notes and a pen. I wrote down a few sentences on the first note, set it aside and repeated the process on another one. Once that was done, I read it out loud for Dad's benefit.

" _September, twenty eighth of two thousand and eight: I, William Price, solemnly declare that I shall bring my daughter, Chloe Elizabeth Price, to the Ice Palace parking lot for a driving lesson on the fifth of October of the same year. Should I fail to uphold my vow, may I be struck dead._ "  
"Isn't the punishment upon failing to comply a bit harsh?"  
"Hmmm. You're right. Let me edit that really quick. There, better. _Should I fail to uphold my vow, may I be forced to participate in a second lunch session with the neighbor this month._ "  
"What? No! That's worse! Can we go back to the death thing instead?"  
"Too late!"

I edited the new information on the first note as well and presented them both to Dad.

"There. You just have to sign these and the deal will be sealed. I made a copy for myself in case you felt like throwing yours out."  
"Come on, Chloe. You know me. I would never dare…"

While waiting at the red light, Dad took the pen I was offering him and signed both sticky notes. He was a man of his words. There was no way he would back down from this deal now. But there was no reason not to continue teasing him a little.

"Huh-hm. I'll put this one safe in my pocket and put this one here."

The second note stuck nicely on the bottom right corner of the windshield.

"This way, every time you want to check on your right, you will be reminded of our arrangement."  
"But what if your mother sees it?"  
"Oh right… well…"

He had me there, I hadn't thought this through after all. But there was an easy solution to this. Everywhere he went, his jacket went with him. So that was the perfect spot to leave the note. Right next to his cellphone. But Dad hadn't noticed, he was focused on the road ahead. Someone was driving erratically. Might be one of these dreaded drunk drivers.

"Dad, I put your note in the pocket where you keep your phone and keys. This way you will feel it every time you want to grab one of them. That should be enough of a reminder."  
"That will do the trick nicely. Let me pass this stupid driver and we can go pick up your mother now."

Now that some serious driving lessons were secured in the near future, I was completely satisfied to just get ice cream for now.

With the bad driver safely behind us, we took a turn around the first roundabout Dad could find and started our journey back the way we came. And as expected we started a new series of red lights.

"Dad, did you take into account the insane amount of red lights we will have to go through? Are you sure we will be able to make it in fifteen minutes?"  
"Have a little faith in your old man, kiddo. We will make it."  
"If you say so."  
"So you told me about work at school but not about your classmates. Anyone caught your interest since last week?"  
"It has barely been a month, Dad. I need a bit more time to assess everyone before I make a decision about who would be worthy of being my friend."  
"Back in my day, that kind of thing was decided on the first week…"  
"Yeah, well times have changed old man! I don't want to rush these things and make a huge mistake. This is my first year in Blackwell Academy. If I screw it up now, it will be haunting me for the next four years!"  
"And we don't want a repeat of what happened in elementary school…"  
"Hell no!"  
"Language, Chloe!"  
"Sorry."  
"That will be two dollars for the swear jar, young lady. Where did you pick that language up anyway?"  
"One of the girls in class, Sarah she is called I believe, she can't stop herself. She has to place an H word in every sentence she spews out of her mouth. I think she might have Tourette’s or something."  
"Perhaps you should avoid this one, kiddo. She sounds like trouble."  
"I tried to talk to her in the first week, she was wearing a Hawt-Dawg t-shirt under her hoodie, so I thought she might be cool. But when I presented myself she only stared daggers at me and didn't say a word. I might not be cool enough for her…"  
"Aww…"  
"No one seems cool enough for her in class apparently, she answers to the teachers when she is asked questions but she isn’t talking to anyone else."  
"I changed my mind, you should try to speak to her again, you might be able to get through to her. There must be someone worth knowing hiding behind her armor."  
"Perhaps, but it looks like a lot of work with no guarantee of a reward at the end…"  
"Anyone else interesting, you must have at least started a list of potential future friends?"  
"No, not really…"  
"Come on, kiddo. They can't all be that bad."  
"I already told you, they are not at all what I was expecting. With this high a bar of entry, I thought they would all be like-minded people with a thirst for knowledge and a will to improve themselves and achieve high academic standards. But they all ended up either already knowing one or two others and forming their own cliques or with the help of their rich family and the rich are only circling around the rich. I don't see myself intruding on an already formed group. I will have to evaluate them on their individual merit and single out the worthy ones."  
"The hard life of a teenager, I remember back in my day…"  
"Yeah I know, I know, on your first days at school everyone was throwing themselves at you, wanting to be your friend."  
"Not exactly but…"  
"Can we change the subject, please?"  
"Sure thing, kiddo. Do you want to listen to some music instead?"  
"Why not."  
"Radio roulette?"

Dad was proposing to play one of our favorite road trip games. We would hit the shuffle button on the radio until we found a station with a song playing and the first one to recognize the song and artist would get a point. The first one to ten points would be declared the winner and the others, the losers, would have to submit to a punishment that was to be agreed upon before starting the game. Since he proposed the game first, I would suggest the punishment.

"And the loser will be on dish washing duty tonight?"  
"You're on! I would let you know I was working late nights as a DJ before I met your mother and…"  
"Yeah, I already know the story. Remember who won last time we played?"  
"If I recall correctly…"  
"It was Mum. And before that? Mum again… and Mum, then me oh right no it was Mum again…"  
"I get it."  
"What a DJ you must have been!"  
"Your mother knows her music, that's for sure. But it is not my fault we always end up on the youngster radio."  
"You should educate yourself more on the new music then."  
"Okay, but this time your mother isn't here to dominate the game, let's see who’s the best now. You're in charge of shuffling. Let's go!"

In one click, the radio turned on to some random static. It was followed by a succession of high and low pitch then the radio ended up on a country station, a soft female voice was joined by an acoustic guitar. That was an unfair start, Dad's favorite genre.

"Oh. That one's easy, kiddo. I'll let you try and find it out first."

The tune sounded familiar but I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. No name was coming to mind. I had clearly lost this round, I might as well throw a random name out there and get it over with. Better luck on the next one. And who knows, I might have gotten lucky.

"Is it Dolly Parton?"  
"Not even close! I know your mother doesn't like listening to country but you should at least be able to recognize her voice. I'm a bit disappointed by your guest."  
"I give up, out with it already!"  
"It's _You Ain't Woman Enough_ by Loretta Lynn."  
"Never heard of her."  
"Never heard… My own daughter. I don’t even recognize you. She was on the news last night, after dinner. Weren't you paying attention?"  
"Not really, sorry."  
"Well, it means one point for me. Next!"

One press on the shuffle button and the station switched to a hard rock one, where an electric guitar was riffing away. This song was so easy I had to scream its name fast before Dad got it but he had had a similar thought.

"AC/DC!"  
" _Thunderstruck_!"  
"This one was easy. I guess one point for each of us. Careful, kiddo, I'm still in the lead."  
"We just started, old man, we will see how you fare in a few stations."

A "youngster" station, as Dad loved to call them, popped up. A sad female singer was on the mic. This one was in the bag. Dad was sporting the expression of someone who was trying really hard to find something out but would ultimately fail at it. Another easy point was to be mine.

"So, Dad. Who is it?"  
"I know this one, it's one of the color people. Orange! No. Purple!"  
"That's P!nk, you silly! I'll give you that one if you can name the song."  
"I'm not sure I can find this one."  
"Come on, Dad. You should know it, we saw her performing it on American Idols!"  
"Hmm… is it _grrrr_?"  
"Not even close. Never mind, it was _Who knew_. No point for you! I'm catching up, Dad. Get ready to get your hands full of soap tonight."

Another boop of the button and P!nk disappeared to make room for a classical station. Two ladies were trying to beat one another at who would sing the higher notes in an incomprehensible language.

Dad was smiling. Damned. He knew this one and I was completely at a loss. I knew this tune, Mum probably had it on a CD somewhere but the name was escaping me.

"Come on, Chloe. It's a classic. One of your mother's favorites. You should know this one."  
"I can't even understand what they are singing about."  
"Not one word?"  
"None at all."  
"I'm disappointed, you should have recognized the language immediately."  
"Why? What is it?"  
"It's French."  
"No way!?"  
"Pay attention, I'm sure you will decipher a word or two."

I brought forth all my mental power and concentrated on the song. Now that I know what to look for, I was able to pick a few words here and there.

"It is French!"  
"I told you so."  
"I still can't understand what they are saying."  
"If I remember correctly, it's about a priest's daughter and her servant going about picking flowers near a river bed."  
"I guess it's from an Opera?"  
"Right you are. It's from _Lakmé_. It was composed by… I know this one… your mother is going to kill me if I don't get it right. I got it! I was composed by Leo Delibes. And the song is called…"

The name of the song? I would have loved to hear it from my father's lips but a few things happened instead all at once: the top of my lap started to warm up, a familiar but impossible sensation, the horn of a delivery truck started to roar out of nowhere, followed by a giant flash of light and then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.  
>   
> I was wondering what would happened to Chloe if Max had never been in the picture to begin with. How much different her character would have ended up without her freckled friend influence. And specialy, what would have happened on the day of William Price car accident?  
> Removing Max from Chloe's life didn't left much in term of relation. Her mother and father... and her cat. I haven't found many stories based on Bongo so far so he had to have a prominent role in this one.  
> I wrote the first part of the first chapter as a joke at first, thinking that would be unacceptable to publish that since it was relying too heavily on the start of Pride and Prejudice and also painting a bad picture of Chloe for all dog lovers around. But my brother (who is my spell-checker and Beta reader) found that acceptable so I started the story from here.  
>   
> I'm still working on the aftermath story that should explain many of the unsolved mysteries, but don't expect the first chapter to be published in two weeks.  
> I welcome any reviews, commentaries or suggestions in the comments section or in PM.


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